


Holiday Cheer*

by PineconeTrinklebriar



Series: Nightlights [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horrorfell (Undertale), Established Relationship, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Healthy Relationships, Holidays, Horrortale Papyrus (Undertale), Horrortale Sans (Undertale), M/M, Paranormal Investigators, Sign Language, Swapfell Papyrus (Undertale), Swapfell Sans (Undertale), Therapy, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Sans (Undertale), Undertale Monsters on the Surface
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:41:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 28,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28227099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PineconeTrinklebriar/pseuds/PineconeTrinklebriar
Summary: *and angst, of course!A collection of holiday drabbles in the Nightlights universe! Mostly fluff, but there's no reason to assume that I won't sneak some angst in there on ya too. I am who I am.
Relationships: Papyrus/Papyrus (Undertale), Sans (Undertale)/Reader, Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: Nightlights [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994629
Comments: 54
Kudos: 30





	1. Dressing Up

**Author's Note:**

> The "soul machine" mentioned here references a traumatic experience that Eleanor (the reader) had way back in WeirdTober in this chapter. You definitely don't need to read that to enjoy this, but it gives some context.

Sans should have known better than to show up at your house and expect to find something normal happening. 

He expected to eat some take out with you and watch a movie, just the two of you. He loved his family, would do absolutely anything for them, but he needed some time to just be with you. And if that involved watching one of the terrible movies that you loved while you ate nachos with “cheese”, then he was more than willing to make that sacrifice.

He was certainly not expecting to find you sitting on the floor surrounded by tiny sweaters and catnip.

“Love?” he asked cautiously. Part of him wanted to just go home and pretend that whatever this was had never happened. The other part of him was deeply curious.

“Hey!” you said, barely looking up from the blue and white sweater you were fiddling with.

“What… What are you doing?” he sighed.

You looked up at him with a wicked grin. “Well, you know I’m not really into Christmas traditions.”

“Because you celebrated the mage version for most of your life, yes.”

“And we can both agree that Gyftmas is kind of an off-brand Yule.”

“I don’t know about that,” Sans said, mostly to rile you up. 

You gave him a brutally unimpressed look and then continued. “As you know, I embrace some of the traditions of the holidays. Presents, tree decorations, the festival of misrule…”

“Right.”

“Well, I thought I’d see if there’s anything to these Christmas sweaters.”

Sans looked down at the little pile of sweaters around you. “My dear, you are a beautiful woman with a wonderful body, but those sweaters are far too small for you.”

You laughed and he grinned. He loved your laugh. He brushed off a spot on the rug to be sure it was free of catnip and sat down beside you. You held up one of the sweaters--this one was approximately doll-sized and red with ‘Meowy Christmas’ scrawled in Christmas lights--for him to inspect. He touched it gently and then looked at you, surrounded by catnip. “You’re going to put our children in sweaters, aren’t you?”

You grinned at him again. “Yup.”

“Did you get one for Butters as well?” You held up an even smaller sweater that said ‘Naughty List Alumnus’ on it. He sighed and looked over the blue and white sweater you’d been fiddling with when he arrived. He held it up and chuckled to see that it was covered in those candles that humans had for another of their religions… Menorahs, maybe? “You realize this is ridiculous,” he told you.

“Oh, you haven’t seen everything yet.” You pushed yourself up and practically skipped off to one of the guest rooms. You returned with a bundle in your arms that looked  _ suspiciously _ like larger sweaters. He was about to tell you absolutely not, not now and not ever, but when he looked at your face he stopped short. You didn’t have that confident grin that you’d been sporting when you showed him the other sweaters. It was replaced with a shy, nearly scared, flush and your step had lost all of its bounce.

He didn’t  _ like _ that, not one bit.

You sat down across from him and pulled your little bundle to your chest. “It has occurred to me that this might be dumb,” you said. He opened his mouth to tell you that it wasn’t dumb, that he would love to wear your sweater, but you kept talking. “I, um, I know that I don’t talk about stuff a lot.” You fidgeted with the sweaters and didn’t look at him. “Like, holiday shit and… and the soul machine?”

He blinked at that, not totally sure how that related. Against every instinct he had, he hadn’t watched the recordings from the machine. Edge did and, afterward, had assured Sans that he’d made the right choice. You didn’t want him to see what was on there and it would only hurt both of you. But in moments like this, he desperately wished he’d watched them in secret.

He didn’t know what you were talking about and he  _ hated _ it.

“But Christmas sweaters were sort of… a part of it? And this whole season I’ve been a little skittish around them. But Dr. Springer asked what would help me feel better and we thought of. Well, this.” You pushed one of the sweaters into his hands quickly, like you were trying to keep your courage. “I, um… I-I would like to take a family picture? With us and the cats and the bird? Unless you hate it?” 

He opened up the sweater and chuckled again. It was red with what appeared to be a normal Christmas sweater pattern at first glance, but upon closer inspection revealed itself to be math equations. There was large, swirly writing in the middle that said “Merry Christmath!”

You were hunched a little bit and waiting on his judgment. As if there was anything he wouldn’t do for your happiness? If you wanted him to wear this damn sweater every single day, he would, just to see you smile. And the fact that it would somehow help you move past whatever happened in the soul machine?

He would do anything to help you with that.

He leaned across the rug, unconcerned about the scattered catnip, and pulled you into a deep kiss. You startled and froze at first, but after a few seconds, you melted into it. Eventually, he pulled back and pressed his forehead against yours. “I love it,” he told you honestly.

Your face brightened. “Really?”

“Really.” He kissed you again and then asked, “Do you want me to help you catch the children? It seems that the catnip isn’t working.”

You laughed and pushed your hair out of your face. “Yeah. They somehow got wise to what was going on and they’re all hiding somewhere.”

He stood up and pulled you to your feet. “Well, let’s go catch our wayward children and get a picture.”

As you dashed up the stairs, he took a second to wonder why on Earth a Christmas sweater featured in your trauma from the soul machine. Ultimately, it didn’t really matter. He paused before following you, yanking off the t-shirt he wore over, and pulled the sweater over his head. It looked ridiculous, but he didn’t mind looking ridiculous for you.


	2. Prank the Halls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the annual Festival of Misrule and you and Stretch have teamed up to win the prank war against Edge and Sans. Everyone will survive the month. Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got a little long but I mean... prank war!

Well, you made a mistake.

You stared at your Jeep, parked trustingly at your boyfriend’s house for the night per his insistence. You kind of thought cars would be off-limits, seeing as Edge and Sans both had fancy cars that they loved more than their significant others, but apparently your Jeep was fair game.

“Well,” Stretch said beside you, “I guess maybe we shouldn’t have rearranged the kitchens.”

You sighed. You and Stretch had plans to go downtown today, all the better to retrieve both presents and pranking items, but this threw a pretty big _wrench_ into your plans. Pun intended.

Your beloved Jeep was sitting in the driveway wrapped very carefully in wrapping paper. Laying in front of it was a lot of smaller presents that were shaped like parts of an engine. There were even four large circular gifts leaning against the garage door. Judging by the fact that all of the tires had been removed from the Jeep, you thought that you knew the contents of those specific packages. You couldn’t see inside due to the wrapping paper, but the seat and steering wheel-shaped packages warned you about what you would find inside if you could. It appeared that your beloved boyfriend and his best friend snuck out of their beds, came outside, and systematically disassembled your entire Jeep piece by piece.

“It had to have taken all night,” you said. “They have to be so tired today, especially since we hid the coffee!”

“Apparently winning is more important than productivity at work,” Stretch observed.

“Took ‘em five hours,” a new voice said, and you jumped about fifty feet into the air.

“Gods damn it Red, you creeper!” you yelped. He and Comic were both standing in the driveway beside Stretch, eyes lidded in boredom.

“Shouldn’ta messed with the kitchens,” Comic said sagely.

“Yeah, well,” was the only comeback you had to that.

This year’s annual Festival of Misrule wasn’t exactly going as expected. Normally, it was a small and stupid contest between you, Stretch, and Mutt to prank the shit out of each other and be declared the King (or Queen) of Misrule. It was actually an ancient tradition that’d been part of early mage festivals as far back as the Middle Ages. Your parents (and several of the mage families in the area) insisted on celebrating the Yule season (and thus the festival) even after it was outlawed by the Puritans. There was a fine for defying the laws of god or whatever, so it was also part of the tradition to go to the governor as a family on the first day of December to pay the fine. You always thought it was a hilarious slap in the face to the government of the 1600s and a part of you wished it was still necessary today. You'd never forget your father slapping the money down on the desk and giving them a waggly finger wave over his shoulder as he left. These days, a lot of mage families paid the amount of the fine to the Mage Council to use to benefit mages that year, but well. You weren’t going to give them anything that you didn’t have to.

Anyway, after Oliver Cromwell and his lackeys lost power and the whole country began celebrating Christmas, fines were largely unnecessary, bashing one of the few traditions you had with your family. But you kept the Festival of Misrule going, by the gods, even when you didn’t actually technically have anyone to compete with. You did dumb little pranks--unscrewing salt shakers at diners, carrying a cell phone jammer, dumb shit like that-- ~~ _and pretended that you weren’t absolutely miserable the whole time._~~

Then monsters wandered out from under the mountain and you discovered a whole new world of traditions. Apparently, some literature about Christmas found its way Underground to mingle with the old traditions monsters themselves already had. Now there was Gyftmas, a strange amalgamation of all of the traditions you were familiar with. Your little family was slowly building their own traditions and it warmed your soul that they accepted the few that you cared about so readily.

So. The Festival of Misrule.

You, Stretch, and Mutt loved the dumb thing, each trying to one-up each other. Last year, it went a little too far when Stretch accidentally scorched one of Edge’s good pans and Mutt flooded the basement. Both Edge and Sans promptly tried to ban the whole thing. To say they were taken aback by how much it upset you was an understatement; you were nearly hysterical at the loss of one of the only traditions that mattered to you. They came back not a day later with a declaration of war: they were now participating in the festival and they played to win.

You didn’t think you’d ever loved them more than you did at that moment.

This year, tradition broke a bit more when Mutt admitted through a ball of anxiety and a few tears that he didn’t think he could do it this year. He was far too busy with his booming art business to take time out to plan pranks and was apparently terrified you’d be mad.

Pffft. You were far too proud to be mad.

Anyway, that’s how it turned into a team sport, with you and Stretch facing off against Edge and Sans. So far you felt it was pretty even, each side trading blow for blow, but apparently you took things to a new level when you and Stretch rearranged the kitchens, hiding many necessary ingredients and cooking utensils throughout the house.

“How long do you think it would take you to put my Jeep back together?” you asked Stretch.

He shrugged. “Probably not a good idea. I understand this shit, sure, but it’s boring as hell and I know I’d get distracted.”

You sighed. “Red?”

Red laughed. “You think I wanna get drug into your pissing contest? Nah, ‘m good.”

“You’re going to make me pay to get my Jeep fixed?” you asked incredulously. “You’re going to have me take it to someone outside the family, someone who might cut my brakes or some shit?”

“Nice try, sweetheart. ‘M fairly confident yer boytoy won’ letcha drive around in a dangerous contraption.”

“I can do it,” a voice said behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and grinned when you saw Neo standing on the front porch. “Was an engineer back in the day.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you gushed. You went in for a hug slower than you would with any other skeleton, making sure your intent was written all over your face. Neo must be getting used to your hugs because he didn’t shy away and even patted your back a little before you let go. 

When you released him, he leaned back and whistled, that kind that you do with your fingers in your mouth. It was the loudest sound you’d ever heard. One of the windows on the second floor opened and Hobbes stuck his head out.

“Bro, get down ‘ere! Gotcha a puzzle ta help with!” Neo called. You grinned as Hobbes visibly brightened and disappeared from the window.

“What’s our next move?” Stretch asked.

“Depends.” You looked over at Comic and Red. “You two wanna have a good time?”

Comic narrowed his eyes at you. “Whatcha got in mind?”

“Nope,” Stretch said, popping the ‘p’ like always. “You either say you’re in or ya get out. We’re not lettin’ ya go tattle to the Edgelord.”

Comic and Red exchanged a Look and then Red sighed. “He’s gonna kill us,” he said, “but I never could resist a good time. Whatcha got in mind?”

***

You were the one who set up most of the security measures at the Embassy, at least on the magic end. It was the main reason you were originally hired; at the time, you assumed that the King of Monsters just wanted to keep track of the kid of the mages that betrayed them. That turned out to be partially true (not the betrayal part, but he was a sentimental old goat and wanted to make sure you were okay after your parents were killed trying to stop the barrier from going up), but he’d also heard that you were a whiz with defensive magic, particularly where allimagic was involved. That was the kind that none of the monsters could ward against, thus the hiring of an outside consultant. 

That meant you were one of the few people that could get into the Embassy largely undetected.

Of course, you’d never used that power for any kind of evil and never would, but there were times you used it. Once, you surprised Sans in his office when he came back from lunch, having neatly bypassed scanning your card. 

Let’s just say he was  _ very pleasantly _ surprised.

Now, you used your powers to get into the parking lot without your card popping up as an alert that you knew Sans set up after the whole “soul machine tried to milk your soul for determination like a cow” debacle. 

“Yer gonna ‘ave to show me how ya do that,” Red grumbled. “‘S a security breach.”

You shrugged. “No one else would be able to do it.”

“Still hate it,” Red said.

“I can live with that. Can we please focus now?”

Red rolled his eyes at you but quieted. “Okay,” you said once you were sure he was done, “this is Operation Vin Diesel. Step one, we need both the Edgelord and Sans’s keys.”

“That’s where we come in,” Comic said good-naturedly. “I’ll get Edge’s and my boy here will get Black’s.”

“Without raising suspicion, James Bond,” Stretch said.

“Oh honey bun, we could steal the president’s underwear durin’ a press conference without raising suspicion,” Red said, syrupy sweet.

“Then go do it,” you said, doing a little shooing motion.

Both Red and Comic disappeared from the borrowed backseat of the Volkswagen you’d borrowed from Blue. You were pretty sure ‘borrowed’ was a strong word and that ‘stolen’ was far more accurate, but you weren’t about to ask Red about his secret ways when you needed his help. Instead, you watched the door of the Embassy with narrowed eyes, prepared to flee at the first sign that Edge or Sans knew what was going on. 

The two of you waited in silence as one minute ticked by, then two. You found yourself fidgeting awkwardly, finally turning to Stretch in agitation. “You think they got caught?”

He snorted. “I think they’re less likely to get caught than they are to betray us.”

“Aw, were you worried ‘bout us, sweetheart?” Red asked suddenly from the backseat.

You yelped and spun around. “God damn it, Red! You are so bloody creepy!”

“Own it and bone it,” Comic said. 

You rolled your eyes and held out your hand for Sans’s key. You’d, eh, lost your spare key privileges at the start of the festival, which was... honestly totally fair. Comic plopped the key into your hand and you said, “Okay, so we all understand step two?”

“I survived Underfell, doll; I’m pretty sure I can move a car,” Red chastised.

You looked over at Comic and he grinned at you. “I’ll keep an eye on ‘em.”

“Thank you,” you said. “Don’t break your bro’s car, please.”

“Pfft. I wanna live long enough ta see the next season of Game o’ Thrones,” Red said. With that, he teleported out of the car. You glanced over and saw him next to Edge’s car, neatly slotting the key into the lock. You clambered out of the driver’s seat and high fived Comic as you walked past him. You and Stretch made your way over to Sans’s Tesla. You carefully unlocked it and climbed inside, a grin on your face. “This’ll teach them to mess with my Jeep,” you said.

***

Around four o’clock, your phone rang. You set the book you were reading aside and Stretch sat up from where he’d fallen asleep in the passenger seat. You looked over at him and he threw you a thumbs up. You answered on speaker. “Hey, babe, how was work?” you asked breezily.

“Where the fuck is my car?” Sans asked, his voice laced with venom.

“ _ Our _ cars!” you heard Edge yell in the background.

“I don’t know what you’re--”

“This has gone too far!” Sans snarled. “Where are you?”

“This is too far?” you wondered. “See, I thought cars were off-limits too, until I got out to the driveway this morning.”

A pause. “It’ll work just fine when--”

“We left you a clue,” you interrupted. “Did you not find it?”

Another pause. “We will find your clue and then we will find you, and when we do, you will pay dearly for this,” Sans warned darkly. You shivered a little at the thought.

“Good luck, babe.”

The line went dead and you went back to your book to wait.

***

Nearly four hours passed before your phone rang again. This time, Sans sounded less sexily angry and more just plain irritated. “What the hell is the clue,” he demanded.

“You haven’t found it?”

“Don’t you start with me!”

“Sorry,” you said with a casual shrug. “I only give hints to those who admit defeat.”

“Never,” he said and hung up again.

“There is no clue, right?” Stretch said.

“Pfft. Of course not.”

***

When the sun went down, you and Stretch fished out the blankets you’d stashed in the backseat. You had a pre-planned meal of sandwiches and a couple of thermoses of coffee to hold you over until the Former Captains of the Royal Guard managed to find you. The two of you were camped in Sans’s car because you were pretty sure that if Edge found you eating in his, he would kill the both of you. Sans wouldn’t be happy, but he was a little of a softer touch than Edge. He’d probably only lightly maim you. 

“You think they’re ever gonna--” Stretch began, but was cut off by the tell-tale pop of teleportation and the appearance of your beloved captains. 

“Find us?” you finished. “Yeah, I think they will.”

The two of you all but threw yourselves out of the car, dashing back towards the tree cover. You’d parked both cars high up on Mt. Ebbott, in a little field that served as a popular location for tourists to take beautiful pictures of the mountain.

There, uh, wasn’t exactly a road that led to the parking spot.

It took your three teleporters all morning and two naps to get the cars ‘ported all the way up there, but the fact that it guaranteed to be hilarious (and your promise of another karaoke night) got them there. Now, the only way to get them back down was to enlist the teleporters again.

There was a loud pop behind you and you screamed as Sans’s arms wrapped around your waist. “Gotcha!” he announced.

“Stretch!” you screamed as Sans lifted you into a princess carry and headed back towards the cars.

“He’s busy!” Edge called back. Stretch was equally captured, slung over Edge’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

“So you thought you could outwit us,” Sans said in the most supervillain voice you’d ever heard.

“I mean, it did take you several hours to find us,” you pointed out.

He chuffed a laugh. “And yet here we are.”

He dropped you gently on the ground by his car and Stretch was deposited next to you. “Now,” Edge said, “we have already enlisted our brothers to help us get these cars back. You, however, will be walking.”

“Aw, come on!” you whined.

“It’s dark,” Stretch moaned.

The two captains grinned at each other. “You should have thought of that before you stole our cars,” Sans said.

“You’re not really going to make us walk home down a mountain in the dark?” you asked. “You know that there are, like, bears out here, right?”

The glance that they exchanged told you that you would absolutely be walking home, but that they would be following you to make sure you were safe. They would probably be hidden in the trees so that you "didn’t know that they were there", but they would definitely be making sure you didn’t get killed by forest animals.

“Ok, ok, let’s get this show on the road.” You jumped as Red stepped out of the void, Comic and Mutt flanking him.

Edge and Sans looked down at you with victorious looks on their faces. “You should admit defeat,” Sans advised.

“Never,” you said.

"Never ever," Stretch agreed.

The two of you continued to sit on the ground and watched as the cars were yoinked into the void. You continued to sit there for several minutes before you both stood up and, grumbling to yourselves, started your walk/teleport adventure home.

***

You were exhausted. The walk home took most of the night with Stretch conserving his shortcuts. You also knew that your boys were following you, so the two of you silently agreed to take your time. Neither of you had to work, after all. 

You still felt Sans wake up in the morning. He groaned and staggered out of bed far more clumsily than normal. “Tired babe?” you asked innocently from your spot in Blanket Mountain on the bed.

He gave you a Look and then teleported out of the room, probably down to the kitchen to get coffee. A glance at your phone told you that he slept in and was going to have to hustle if he wanted to get a shower and get to work on time. Apparently forest stalking served as a decent workout replacement the night before. You yawned and pulled yourself out of bed too, making your way over to the door and shuffling downstairs. You found Sans leaned up against the counter staring dumbly at the coffee pot while it brewed.

“You should get dressed while you wait on it,” you told him. “You’re running late.” You collapsed into a chair at the table and put your head down on your arms.

“And you should go back to bed,” Sans pointed out. “You must be exhausted.” You made a noise of affirmation at him but made no move to go back upstairs. “Love?” he prodded.

“Wanted to see you off,” you mumbled from between your arms. You didn’t have to see his face to know that he was making that dumb dopey face at you. That one that made your soul all warm and tingly. It was almost enough to make you feel bad.

“Very well,” he said. “I’ll get dressed and we can have some coffee.” You heard him pop out of the kitchen, presumably back upstairs to get dressed for work.

He really should take the day off.

You didn’t realize that you fell asleep until Sans was shaking you awake gently. “Love, I’m leaving. Go back to bed,” he said, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

“I missed coffee,” you told him sadly.

He chuckled. “I got to look at you while I had it. Let’s call it a compromise.”

You nodded and stood up, stretched, and then followed him to the door. He gave you a kiss then dashed out, climbing into the Tesla. You leaned on the doorjamb and watched as he started it...

And all hell broke loose.

As soon as he cranked the ignition, the music began blaring a horrible holiday rap that you happened to know he despised. The windshield wipers wiped at the windshield frantically and the lights flashed on and off. 

The absolute best part was that the fans in the car were on full blast and all angled toward the driver’s seat. The second the car turned on, they blasted a beautiful variety of holiday-colored and themed glitter directly into the face of your beloved boyfriend. It wasn’t dangerous for him like it was for humans or mages; it would be an irritant, sure, but it’s not like it could get in his eyes or throat or anything.

It could, however, create a very inconvenient situation for a skeleton who liked a clean car and was already running a bit late for work.

Sans tried to turn things off in the car, but it appeared that nothing was hooked up to what it was supposed to be. He flicked off the windshield wipers, but it only turned on the hazard lights instead. Trying to turn down the radio set off the panic alarm on the car. The doors locked and he looked up at you, his eye lights meeting your eyes. You could almost see the Ocean’s 11 style montage playing behind his eye lights as he put together that  _ yesterday wasn’t the prank. _ Today was the prank, and you’d covered your sabotage by moving the cars somewhere that they wouldn’t drive them until morning. His eye lights guttered out for a moment and you grinned.

“Babe! You okay?” you called as innocently as you could.

“I can’t even teleport!” he yelled back.

Yeah… You cast an anti-teleportation spell on the car last night. “I didn’t want anyone else to teleport your car,” you said sweetly.

“Make it stop!” he yelled at you.

“I could do that,” you said as you approached the car with a sly grin. “For a price.”

“Eleanor, we have neighbors!”

“Yup,” you said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis.

“I will not admit defeat!”

“That’s fine,” you said casually. “We really only need one of you to give in, since we’re doing teams this year.”

Sans paled at that, but then his face shifted to one of determination. “Edge would never--”

There was a pop of teleportation behind you and Stretch appeared with Edge. Edge staggered a bit but kept his feet. You turned and looked at him and couldn’t help the chortle of laughter at the sight. There was Edge, arms crossed and head bowed in defeat. And he was absolutely. Covered. In. Glitter. His nice suit looked like he’d just taught a class of kindergarten students to make glitter bombs. It clung to his skull, his tie, his suit coat. You leaned forward and plucked a cheery Santa Claus made of red foil that clung to his skull just above his eye light.

“Edge?” Sans squawked indignantly. “You surrendered?”

“Mine was playing Barbie Girl,” Edge said defensively. “Honestly, anyone would surrender in the face of such torture!”

“You! Have literally been tortured!”

That made you and Stretch both grimace, bringing down the mood just a bit, but Edge didn’t seem concerned about his frankly horrifying past. “I already gave in,” he said glumly. “I’m sorry, my friend.”

“Aw, babe, your boyfriend already quit for you. Just admit defeat,” you cooed.

“Please refrain from implying that Black and I have a sexual relationship,” Edge muttered.

“Come on, babe; we have neighbors,” you needled.

“Fine! You and Stretch are the King and Queen of Misrule! Let me out of the car!”

You grinned, then leaned back and whistled. It wasn’t quite as loud as the one that Neo did yesterday, but it was still pretty damn loud. Neo and Hobbes appeared at the window, both grinning like maniacs. Sans’s eye lights shrank to pinpricks when he saw them. “Betrayal?” he said softly.

“What can I say? I can be very persuasive and they’re car geniuses,” you said with a grin. You gave them a thumbs up and Neo held up the remote he was using to control the car. Sans watched in a mixture of horror and awe as the car stopped screaming and slowly went back to normal. The last thing to happen was the car unlocking and Sans was out of the front seat so fast that it could’ve been teleportation if you didn’t know better. The glitter cascaded off of him in a cloud that made you cackle.

Before you could react, he was in front of you, tossing you over his shoulder. “I’m going to be late for work,” he told Edge. “We have to take a shower.”

“Please don’t come in until you get rid of the glitter,” Edge told him. “I’m about to call to make an appointment to have my car detailed. Would you like me to call for you?”

“It’s the least you could do after admitting defeat,” Sans told him.

Edge nodded and turned to Stretch. “We also have a shower to take.” Stretch squealed and tried to take off, but Edge caught him easily and scooped him up.

“I’ll be by later to teleport you to work,” Sans offered. Edge nodded and took off towards his house with his boyfriend in his arms. 

“Bye Stretch!” you yelled as Sans carried you into the house. You felt the cold of the void and then Sans was dumping you unceremoniously into the bathtub. You blinked up at him and... Well, he looked a little annoyed. He turned away from you and took off his suit coat, letting it fall to the floor. "Hey, babe, are you actually upset?" you asked hesitantly. 

He turned back to you with confusion on his face as he loosened his tie. "Upset?"

"Yeah..." you pushed yourself out of the tub and moved to stand behind him. "We didn't mean to upset you."

He blinked at you and then chuckled. "Upset? No. How could I be upset? My datemate is a strategic genius who defeated two of the monsters best known for their strategic abilities. You got everyone to work together for a common cause. Did you see how happy Neo and Hobbes were?"

He pulled you into his arms, but you resisted a little bit so that you could look up at his face, searching it for evidence that he was upset. You didn't find any, only soft eye lights and a small grin. "You're sure?" you asked.

"Of course. You're the Queen of Misrule and I am very honored to have lost to you." He pulled you in for a kiss before adding, "Of course, next year I will not lose. You've tipped your hand, my dear, and you won't win twice."

You couldn't help but smile back up at him. "Bring it on, Sansy."

You couldn't help but look forward to next year, even as you enjoyed him kissing you right here and how.


	3. Decorations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your skeletons help you celebrate another of your holiday traditions.

It was kind of a dumb tradition, you could admit that, but it was one of like three you still had from your parents so you were pretty protective of it. Sans and Mutt never complained as they helped you lug supplies out to the largest pine tree in the little forest around your home, the one your father planted when you were born. This year, Neo and Hobbes joined you as well, each looking at the forest with wide sockets. You were pretty sure that they hadn’t been in a forest on the Surface yet so you were pretty happy to get to show them that.

You and the boys sat your boxes of supplies at the base of the tree and you busied yourself with unpacking the contents. There were ornaments and strings of popcorn. There were some lights that Comic magicked to be safe in the forest for you. You assigned Neo and Hobbes the task of untangling all of that and moved on to the next box. This one had a large log inside, along with materials to help start the fire. It also had old parchment paper, ink, and quills so that you could write. You sat all of that out and smiled at the sight. It was so familiar.

The final box contained the special ornaments, the ones that you collected to remind you of each family member, those present and those past. You had a couple of cat ornaments for Zuko and Nugget and, this year, you added a pigeon one for Danny Butterman. There was a paintbrush one for Mutt (and a second one for Mars this year), a chicken for Stretch, and a tiny telescope to remind you of your road trip that Edge drove and you rode shotgun for. Red and Sans each had their respective beloved condiments and Jupiter had a little stethoscope, while Papyrus and Blue each had action figures from their favorite television show. Neo got a globe full of glitter for his integral contributions to your ultimate prank on Sans and Hobbes got a little basket of cookies because he loved them so much. You grinned as you retrieved a small plushie from Monstruamon. Sans rolled his eyes when you bought it earlier that year, but he agreed to help magic it so it wouldn’t get damaged when you decorated the tree. You loved it; it reminded you of your boyfriend’s rare whimsy. Lastly, you pulled out the two oldest things in the box: an old quill and a small potion bottle, your dad and mom’s ornaments. You swallowed back the nostalgia as you laid them out to be hung up at the appropriate time.

Sans plopped a smaller box beside you and began fishing out ornaments of his own. He always brought some to remind him of those he lost in Swapfell: an axe for Alphys, a small bone ornament for the Dogi, a tiny bottle of cider for his Muffet. He also had one for you, a beautiful and ornate bird that he told you reminded him of the safari park. Mutt had also included a small heart that said ‘Anime!’ for his Undyne. When you told Neo and Hobbes about the tradition, they told you they didn’t know if they would have anyone they wanted to include, so you were surprised when Sans also retrieved a fish that was clearly homemade, probably from Mutt’s extensive art supply collection. He also retrieved a paper mache heart (which you knew to be a soul in a monster’s hands). It was a yellow-orange color, almost the color of everyone’s favorite crayon: macaroni and cheese.

“Who does it represent?” you asked Sans softly.

“Not sure,” he admitted. “Neo made it, but he wouldn’t say who it was, just that it was someone he lost.”

Well, Neo wanting to put an ornament shaped like a mage soul on the tree was definitely weird, but you weren’t about to push him for answers. You knew what it was like to not want to discuss your losses and you hadn’t lost an entire universe like they had.

“Okay,” you called to the other three, “let’s light the log so it can burn while we decorate the tree.”

Everyone gathered around and watched as you used flint to create a small fire, coaxing it until it eventually caught the log. You answered the question that you knew Neo and Hobbes both had before they ever asked it. “You don’t use magic to light the Yule log,” you explained. “Tonight is a reminder to be thankful for all we have and to remember those that we have lost. Magic is a gift and lighting the Yule log reminds us what life could be without it.” The two new monsters nodded respectfully and simply watched you finish catching the log on fire.

When you were satisfied that the fire wouldn’t go out, you began the decoration process. You scrambled up as high as you could in the tree, trailing a popcorn strand behind you. You could tell that Sans was resisting every urge to tell you to get the hell down and let him use magic, but he refrained. You could feel that his blue magic was called up, but he didn’t actually order you down, so that was a win.

Within the hour, the tree was bedecked in lights and popcorn, ready for the personalized ornaments. You climbed down and felt Sans relax a little. Everyone took turns putting on ornaments, each saying something kind about the ones that the ornaments represented. You did the living first, each laughing and joking about the silly adventures each member of the family got up to that year. You couldn’t help but smile as your boys opened up about their feelings just a little.

Mutt hung Mars’s paintbrush and muttered a thanks for being his new best friend with a purple blush. Sans declared a similar sentiment about Edge when he hung his ornament. Hobbes was excited to hang Jupiter’s, signing that his alternate was the ‘nicest and always shared movies’. Neo muttered a quiet thanks to Blue for all the cookies and gossip. You were the one who hung Sans’s ornament and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as you said, “This one’s for Sans. He’s, uh, he’s the best thing that ever happened to me, and a lot of things have happened to me. I love him more than literally anything or anyone else.” You rubbed at your sternum as your soul burned a little.

Sans wrapped you in a hug before he went to hang your ornament. With one hand fiddling in his pocket, you watched as a complicated and nervous expression passed over his face. “I cannot imagine life without you, Eleanor, and I’ve had to a few times this year. I never want to be without you, not ever. I love you for who you are and all that you will become in the future.” 

_ You aren’t crying! You’re not! Allergies! _

You pulled him into a kiss before it was time to move onto the harder part of the ceremony: the ones that you lost. You started, well-practiced at hanging your parents ornaments. “Love you always,” you said softly, “and I hope you’d be proud of who your daughter grew up to be.”

Sans pulled you into his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “They would be, love.”

Everyone else had soft nothings to whisper about their fallen loved ones, too. There wasn’t a dry eye or socket by the time everyone was done. You were especially interested in what Neo would say when he hung the soul ornament, heartbreaking as he muttered out a “sorry I never told ya I loved ya. An’ sorry I couldn’t save ya.”

Yeah, you had questions, but in the face of that raw confession, it seemed that asking them would only hurt your new friend. Not worth it.

Once the decorating ceremony was over, you turned your attention to the Yule log. It was still burning brightly a little way from the base of the tree. “The Yule log reminds us that years come and go and the past is burnt up like fire,” you recited. It was exactly what your father used to say when you lit the Yule log as a child. “We have only today to celebrate and tomorrow to hope for.”

You distributed the parchment and quills to everyone. “Write down the things you would like to leave in the past year. We will then burn them in the Yule fire and commit them to the gods.”

Everyone obediently began writing on their parchment, spread out around the area so they could find a surface to write on. You had no idea what anyone else wrote--it was  _ absolutely _ private--but yours wasn’t a long list. You wrote ‘trauma’ and figured that basically encompassed it. Your life was beautiful, perfect, and the skeletons all quietly scratching on their parchment was a reminder of that. Your tree was full of ornaments, more full than it had ever been, and you were happy. Truly. 

That didn’t stop your nightmares, didn’t keep you from waking up in soul-splitting agony, didn’t stop you from shying away from talking about your future with Sans for fear that it’d all come crashing down.

It felt good to throw that little paper in the fire. You knew that wouldn’t actually get rid of all of your trauma, that you had a lot of work to do, but it felt good to sort of declare that you were going to do it. You were going to keep working, keep going, no matter what.

The other parchments burned as well, and whatever else was on them, it seemed to leave your little family lighter. You all sat around the fire quietly for a while, basking in the warmth and watching the sparks climb. 

The rest of the Yule ceremony was a lot simpler. You sat together, talking and laughing, sharing stories and telling ghost tales. You stayed together long into the night, waiting for the Yule long to burn down. Eventually, the skeletons around you fell asleep, curled up in piles of blankets that Mutt and Sans teleported from your house. They looked pretty comfortable despite laying on the ground. You should probably sleep, too, but you were enraptured by the fire. Besides, you were pretty confident that Sans only allowed himself to fall asleep because you and Mutt were both there. You suspected that if you fell asleep, he would wake up immediately.

Besides, you didn't want to sleep. It was nice out here, what with the fire and the quiet of the woods and the soft breathing of your friends. Somewhere in the distance, you heard animals rustling as the sky began to lighten. You were happy, truly.


	4. Gyftmas Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New traditions are never a bad thing.

Not a creature was stirring. Well, at least not any of your boyfriend’s housemates. If they weren’t asleep, they were keeping themselves sequestered upstairs, leading you to vaguely wonder what Sans said to them to make them stay put. 

Not that you particularly cared at this moment.

Sans had a little blanket and pillow pile all set up by the fire when you got to his house. He even had a couple of bottles of wine and a little cheese plate for the two of you to enjoy. He pulled you down into the pillows and immediately began snuggling you. You sighed and settled into the best relaxation you could think of after your long day. Stretch always enlisted your help in last-minute gift shopping and wrapping; the skeleton was a certified genius, but he never could figure out to make sure he had everything he needed before Gyftmas. It’d been a long day of fighting through crowds and making sure Stretch didn’t get dusted, either by you for being annoying or by overzealous humans at the mall. 

Sans filled your glass with wine and, before long, you were sharing wine-sweetened kisses. It didn’t escalate beyond some deep kisses (no matter how sure you were that his housemates were not going to come down the stairs) but that was perfectly fine by you.

Gods, you loved this man.

You knew that the two of you would have to go to bed eventually; after all, the next day was a big one. It’d start here, with you and the four occupants of this house sharings gifts and breakfast together. Then, you’d all head over to Papyrus’s house (it was his turn to host this year), where you’d have Gyftmas dinner together and share gifts. You knew that everyone went a little overboard this year, what with the new family members getting them all excited, and you couldn’t wait to see how the new boys responded to their first real Gyftmas. They didn’t tell you what it was like in their universe, but you knew that Underfell and Horrortale both sucked so you couldn’t imagine that  _ Horrorfell _ had awesome Gyftmases. 

After dinner and presents would be the annual video game tournament of champions. There was a bracket and a wheel to determine what game you were playing and the prize was a stupid novelty giant video game controller Stretch found at a thrift store. Whoever won got to take home the controller-turned-trophy for the year and add some sort of decoration to it. Last year, Blue won the title and, while you didn’t know what he added, you assumed that his artwork would be far more tasteful than Red’s vulgar contribution from the year before.

After that, you and Sans would head to your house and hang out with the pets and to have a quiet, private evening in. You usually watched a few movies and stayed up way too late. Your favorite years were when you fell asleep tangled up together on the couch and woke up with two cats laying on top of the pile. Sans would make breakfast, probably pancakes but maybe waffles or omelets, and the two of you would head out to the rougher side of town with a bagful of presents and a Jeepful of food. There was a homeless shelter there that always needed help. You weren’t allowed to stay for fear of Sans freaking people out, but you could still help out with your donations. He’d help you deliver gifts to some friends (and some people that he strongly disagreed with calling ‘friends’; he was still a little salty about Hitchhiker possessing him). That evening, you would return to Sans’s house to share a meal with Mutt (and, this year, Neo and Hobbes) and that would really be the conclusion of Gyftmas for you. From there, it’d be time to look forward to the New Year.

Right now, though, you were snuggled up with the love of your life, making out in front of a fire like teenagers. This wasn’t a normal part of the Gyftmas traditions, but you had to admit that you loved his improvisation. 

After all, every tradition had to start somewhere.


	5. Window Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mutt and Mars show off the window art they were hired to do downtown... whether they want to or not.

One thing you would say for Ebbott is that the city always decorated beautifully for the holidays, and they did so fairly inclusively. If you wandered around downtown, you would see Christmas trees and Yule logs on display alongside images of deer antlers covered in lights and gifts, thus incorporating human, monster, and mage holidays. There were decorations for the other human winter holidays as well, and it was all lovingly done.

This year, downtown was even more beautiful than usual in your opinion. Nearly all of the storefronts had hired a pair of talented up-and-coming artists from the monster community to do their holiday window art. You were so proud of Mutt and Mars that you thought your soul would burst.

The trip downtown was a foregone conclusion to you and the rest of the skeleton family because of course you were going to go look at their hard work. The two of them worked tirelessly since the beginning of December to fulfill all of the orders, so much so that you rarely saw Mutt outside of missions and didn’t see Mars at all except at movie night. When they finally announced that they finished the last display, the whole family immediately made plans to eat dinner downtown and walk around and view the displays. Somehow, that move seemed to surprise them, both Mars and Mutt blushing at the suggestion.

“Ya really don’ gotta,” Mutt told you softly for the thousandth time. He was waiting for you to finish getting ready, primping in the mirror. He sat on your couch with two cats trying to share his lap and a bird on his shoulder. Apparently, they missed their favorite uncle.

“Are you joking?” you scoffed. “ _ Of course _ we’re going to go see it! Your art is beautiful and we are pretty fond of the two of you.”

Mutt turned purple at that. “Jus’ don’ wantcha to be disappointed,” he muttered, turtling into his jacket a bit.

You stared at him for a second, taking in his whole look. He was  _ nervous _ . You silently wondered how Mars was doing; would he be equally worried about showing off their work? 

You walked over and sat on the couch beside him, taking one of his claws in your hand. "Hey. Did you do your best?" He nodded slowly. "And did the folks that hired you like it?" Another nod. "Well, then, I am positive that it is good work. But even if it's not the greatest, if you did your best, there is absolutely no way we won't be proud of you."

He looked at you finally and that pretty blush spread. "I just… am nervous," he admitted. 

"To have the whole family see?"

"Yeah."

You pulled out your phone and checked the time. Mmm… you had enough time if you didn’t mind being a bit late. Eh, Sans could be difficult when you were late, but... “How does Mars feel? He nervous?”

“He, uh, won’ stop tryin’ to get me to fix one o’ the displays, so I think so.”

“Okay, call him and tell him to teleport his coccyx over here.” You began dashing around the house going through your whole leaving for the night routine: checking the pet food and water, pulling on shoes and a coat, locating the earmuffs that Sans was obsessed with you wearing if you were outside… But you paused when you saw Mutt staring at you dumbly. “Call Mars,” you repeated. “We don’t have a ton of time.”

“F-for what?”

“Oh. You’re going to show your displays to me and I’m going to tell you how each skeleton is going to react to each one so you don’t have to be anxious anymore.” He continued to stare at you so you gestured at his phone irritably. “Call him!”

He finally obeyed and, before Mars arrived, you snaked over to him. He was staring down at his feet. Maybe you pushed too hard? “Hey, Scoob, are you okay? We don’t have to go if you don’--”

You were interrupted by a surprise skeleton throwing himself into your arms. Luckily he was pretty light, but you still started to fall back before he braced you and held you steady with his backbreaking hug. “Ranks Raggy,” he said softly into your hair.

You sighed and hugged him back. “I’d do anything for you, Scooby Doo.”

“Ain’t that sweet?” Mars said, stepping out of a shortcut. 

He looked  _ terrible _ . He was all sweaty and his eye light was tiny in his socket, shrunk down in fear. He was awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt, which you recognized as his designated comfort hoodie, the first one that he bought on the Surface. It was kind of ratty by now, but it softened your soul even more. “Bring it in, buddy,” you said, holding out an arm. He smiled faintly and his eye light expanded a little. He shuffled over to you and gave a perfunctory grumble as you pulled him into your group hug.

***

You were right, of course. Every single window display was gorgeous, filled with precious little snowflakes and beautiful lights. You stood back and watched as the rest of the family gushed over them, sipping your hot chocolate and grinning. If anything, your guesses were  _ less positive _ than the actual skeletal response to their work. Mars and Mutt were both flushed with happiness as their brothers and cousins admired the windows. Everyone had so many questions about the displays, about how they did certain details, about how they became so damn talented… You didn’t think it was possible for Jupiter or Sans to be prouder of their brothers.

You knew you couldn’t be prouder of them.

Your hot chocolate was gone by the time your little group finished their trek around downtown. You were starting to get cold and the skeletons noticed. Sans wrapped his arm around your shoulders in an attempt to warm you up, but most of his focus was still on his baby brother. 

“Did you see the one with the Gyftmas tree?” he asked happily.

“I did; personally, I liked the one with the cats on it.”

“The details were incredible! I knew he was good at art, of course, but this is… This is more. He is quite good!”

“He is,” you agreed. “Know why?” Sans’s revelry was interrupted briefly by confusion. He looked down at you and you smiled up at him. “‘Cause his big bro found him an art set in the dump and kept him supplied with art stuff his whole life, even though you were trapped Underground and a workaholic. Babe, you made it so that he  _ could _ be good at art, even though you lived in Murdersvania.” You stood up on your toes to kiss his cheek. “So I’m proud of him, of course, but I’m so proud of you, too.”

He sputtered a bit, trying to think of a way to steer away from these Big Feelings, but you simply took advantage of his distraction to give him another quick smooch. He finally shook his head and said, “I am quite a catch.”

You laughed until you snorted. “You really are.” Then, you pulled his arm off of you and pushed him towards the rest of the family. “Go hang out with your bro, hot stuff. It’s his night. Oh, and see if you can find out anything about Paps and Blue while you’re at it.”

Sans rolled his eye lights at you and your constant need for gossip, but he was smiling, the happiness crinkling up around his sockets. He pulled you over to the group with him and you went, probably smiling pretty big yourself.


	6. Hot Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every homeowner has house problems that they have to deal with sometimes, even mages.

When Sans’s phone rang with your ringtone at 3 a.m., he woke instantly. Being raised in a Fellverse meant that going from completely asleep to dodging attacks in an instant was essential. He’d always wanted to wake up nice and slow like the Candyverse monsters, but it just wasn’t something that his instincts would allow. He doubted that would ever change, no matter how many years he was on the Surface.

“What’s the matter?” he immediately demanded.  _ Are you injured? How badly? What help do you need? Who should I call? _

“Um… Do you know how to fix a hot water heater?” you yelled over the sound of water in the background.

What?

“What?” he managed.

“My hot water heater! It’s, like, spewing water! Everywhere! And I tried to shut off the water but I can’t get to it because  _ scalding hot water, _ so I was hoping you could come help?”

He almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. You were having an emergency, certainly, but it wasn’t a life-threatening one. Only on the Surface could such things be true; in Swapfell, every emergency was life or death. 

“Aren’t you particularly gifted at controlling water?” Sans asked curiously. Most mages had an element that they identified with and you tended to handle water well.

“Sans! Please, my basement is basically a swimming pool at this point!” you yelped at him.

Well, his soul was basically programmed to respond to any requests you made in that tone of voice swiftly. “I’ll be right over,” he promised. He ported into his brother’s room before he even fully rolled out of bed. When he didn’t find him there, Sans frowned and teleported downstairs. The living room was completely dark except for the faint light of the television. He shouldn’t have been surprised to find his brother there, but the scene before him was rather unexpected.

Mutt, Hobbes, and Neo were all sprawled out on the floor in front of the television, each holding a video game controller. There was a frankly incredible amount of junk food scattered around them. Demolished bags of chips and multiple plates of Pizza Rolls were around, as well as a pile of various snack cakes that Sans recognized as food that you sent to the hospital in your snack foods care package for the Horrorfell brothers. He didn’t know that any of that food was in his home and was horrified at the sheer amount they seemed to have eaten and were planning to eat.

All three of them looked at him like they’d been caught at something which, it seemed, they had. “Hey, bro,” Mutt tried, his mouth full of some monstrosity.

“What are you doing?” Sans asked.

“Smash Bros tournament?”

“At three in the morning?”

All three of them looked at each other and Sans simply sighed. “While I appreciate that the three of you are bonding, you could do this during daylight hours and I would even prepare you snacks that are not vile abominations against the culinary arts.”

Neo shrugged. It seemed to be a universal trait of the Sansy types to enjoy shrugging. “Food’s food. I like da Twinkies.” 

Sans shook his head. “I’m actually down here because Eleanor’s hot water heater is currently spewing scalding hot water all over her basement.”

The other three monsters were on their feet faster than Sans would have thought them capable of in their junkfood-induced state. “‘Er house is floodin’?” Neo asked. “We oughta go!”

“Think so?” Sans asked in his faux sweet voice. He held out his arm and Neo grabbed hold while Mutt grabbed Hobbes. A quick trip through the void left them standing in your entryway, next to the open basement door. 

You looked adorably ridiculous. You were wearing the tank top and short shorts that you’d clearly been sleeping in along with a pair of rain boots with rainbow polka dots. You had a broom in your hand and were clearly engaged with keeping your cats back from the basement door. They seemed extremely interested in the rushing water noise in their domain and did not seem terribly concerned that you were swatting them with the broom. You looked up when they teleported in and the relief on your face was palpable. “Thank the gods you’re here! Sorry to wake you, but I--”

“Never apologize for calling me when you need me,” Sans interrupted quickly. “Now, about this hot water heater.” 

The cats promptly abandoned their quest to get into the basement to dance around his feet. You huffed a little and leaned on the broom. “Yeah, look, your favorite person is here! Nevermind that I’ve raised you and loved you and clothed you since you were kittens.”

Sans laughed a little. “What can I say? They have  _ purrrrfect _ taste in parents.”

“You’ve gotta be  _ kitten _ me with these jokes,” you moaned.

“Jus’ keep da furballs from comin’ down,” Neo said with a chuckle of his own. “Hobbes an’ I’ll take care o’ it.” He gestured to his brother and the two of them disappeared into the dark doorway.

“Be careful!” you called. “The water’s super hot! I know skeletons aren’t as sensitive to heat as fleshies but--”

“We’ll be fine, doll,” Neo called back.

You deflated a little and turned back to Sans and Mutt. “Well,” you said, “I guess we just keep the cats away from the basement and let them work their magic?”

“Where’s Danny?” Mutt asked.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, he’s flying around in there. He thinks he’s really hot stuff.”

Sans snorted at your unintentional pun and you rolled your eyes again. “This’s gonna cost me a fortune,” you lamented. “Hot water heaters are bloody expensive. Especially with the holidays! My budget is already strapped.” You abandoned leaning on the broom and instead leaned against Sans for support.

Sans raised a brow at you. You never really mentioned money; he sort of assumed that you were fine financially. Most mages had family wealth to fall back on and he knew that the Embassy paid you fairly well for your services. He was the one that balanced the budgets for them, after all. For the first time, he wondered about your parent’s money. Was it possible that it hadn’t returned to you with the house? “Is that a concern?” he asked.

You paled a little and he realized that you hadn’t meant to say all of that to him. “Um. Well. It’ll be fine.”

“I’ll see how they’re doin’ down there!” Mutt said quickly. Before either of you could react, Mutt disappeared into the void. Lovely.

“You know that, if money is a concern, that is something I can help with?” Sans said gently.

You stiffened. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

_ You could move in with me. Then your hot water heater wouldn’t be a concern at all and your expenses would be significantly less, _ Sans managed to not say. “Love--”

“I know you’re trying to help,” you said quickly, “but I don’t want money, okay? I’m fine. I’ll just…” You sighed and scrubbed a hand down your face. “I’ll just have to write a few more pieces, maybe take a few more pictures. And there’s always some haunted houses that need to be cleansed or whatever. I’ll be fine.”

_ I don’t want you to work more. I want to take care of you, _ he didn’t say, knowing that it would be unwelcome right now. “May I at least see if there are any inexpensive water heaters leftover from building New New Home that we could get at a discount?”

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion but said, “Yeah, if that’s a real thing, sure.”

“And may I point out that your Embassy insurance should cover any structural damage to your home?”

“I don’t have Embassy insurance,” you said.

“Um. Well, actually, all employees of the Embassy have it.”

“But I don’t pay for it.”

“No one pays for it. It’s just… Part of the deal. You actually have saved the Embassy a large sum of money by not requesting a house in New New Home, so paying for the damages to your basement would actually be less than you are owed.”

More narrowed eyes. “Is that real?”

He smiled and pulled you into his arms. You came hesitantly, but do allow him to pull you to his chest. “It is real. I promise.”  _ It will be, anyway, first thing in the morning, and it probably should have been real all along. After all, the Embassy paid for needs in New New Home and you had the right to a home there if you wished. _

“Alright. Well. Don’t do anything special for me. I’m fine.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and nuzzled against your neck. “Of course. Nothing special.”

You sighed and moved a little so that he could access your neck more easily. It wasn’t much longer before Sans didn’t really want to go home and, thankfully, the sound of rushing water stopped. He managed to pull himself away from you before Neo and Hobbes trekked back into the room. 

“‘S a mess down there,” Neo said. “Let us know when ya get a new heater; I’ll put it in for ya.”

“You don’t have to--”

Neo chuckled. “‘Course I don’ have to. I wan’ to. Now. Ya friends wit’ any water elementals? That’s who’ll getcher basement clean the fastest.”

“I’ll send someone over tomorrow?” Sans suggested. You, apparently placated by his kisses and the water finally being turned off, nodded your agreement.

“Thanks, guys,” you said meekly. “I never would’ve gotten it fixed without you.”

Hobbes quickly signed that it wasn’t a problem and he was happy to help. You smiled and gave each of them a quick hug before Mutt pulled them into the void to continue their video game tournament. You led Sans upstairs and later, when he settled in to sleep, he began making plans. Embassy insurance may not exactly be a thing yet, but by the time you needed to know, it would be. He was sure Edge would agree. 

He only wished you would let him do more.


	7. Auld Lang Syne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie meets up with an old friend.

You frowned at your own reflection again for the umpteenth time. This time it was the hair; it was just a little  _ too _ unkempt. You didn’t want to look like you put too much effort into your appearance for this, but you also wanted to look good. This was the third outfit you’d tried out and the fourth time you’d started over on your makeup. You’d been fine with your hair from the beginning, but now maybe that was wrong and you should--

A skeletal hand caught yours. You glanced over at Stretch, who was helping you get ready since Sans was at work. Well, ‘helping’ is a strong term. More accurately, Stretch was watching you get ready and making sure you didn’t chicken out of going at all. “You look fine,” he said. “Geez, with the way you’re primpin’ you’d think this was the third date if ya know what I mean.”

You huffed. “Not everything’s about sex, Stretch. Things can still be a big deal without any romantic feelings involved.”

He laughed. “I know, I know. This  _ is _ a big deal. I know.”

And it was. 

You’d been surprised earlier in the week by a text from a number that you honestly didn't expect to ever hear from again. It was one that you still knew by heart, of course, just like anyone who had a best friend in the time before cell phones, but one that you hadn’t used in years.

Anne was your oldest friend, the one that you would’ve sworn you’d never lose touch with. She was there for you when your parents died; her parents gave you a place to stay for a while right after. You were pretty sure they would have adopted you if the council hadn’t intervened. Even then, she fiercely remained your friend, standing by your side through every rebellious act and poor decision, bailing you out of jail when necessary, and always finding a place for you to crash when your other options were places like ‘a bench at the park’. 

She was the first and most outspoken Oliver hater. She never liked him growing up, always said that he was two-faced, but tolerated him well enough when he was just a friend of yours. The second you started dating, though? She intervened. You could still hear those explosive fights, both of you yelling and crying and you just could not understand what her problem was, why she didn’t like him, why she didn’t want you to be happy…

Well. You understood now.

She was an empath and had always been exceptional at sensing other people’s thoughts and emotions. She couldn’t exactly read minds, but she knew way more about others than most wanted her to; it actually reminded you of a few skeletons you knew. You should have listened to her instead of letting Oliver distance you from her, but you didn’t. Just another in a long line of bad choices.

By the time you realized what she had always known, she had been out of your life for a few years and you were too ashamed to go running back to her. You figured it would be best if you just let her move on and keep being kick-ass without you. She was working her way through nursing school--in the same class as Jupiter, ironically enough--and focusing on mental health nursing. She graduated top of her class last year and was immediately hired at the Ebbott New Hope Center to work in the children’s ward. Last you heard, she was practically running it and you couldn’t be prouder.

Then, out of the blue, she texted you to ask if you’d like to get coffee.

The day finally came and here you were, standing in front of a mirror primping. Stretch was right that you were acting like this was some sort of date, but the truth was far more simple than that: You messed up this friendship, the most important friendship, up and you just wanted her to know that you were sorry. You didn’t know what she wanted from this little meetup, possibly to rub her success in your face and you couldn’t blame her if that was it, but all you wanted was to tell her that you were sorry and that you were wrong. It wouldn’t fix the past, nope, but you felt like you owed her that at least.

Stretch pulled you away from the mirror and gave you a once over before nodding in satisfaction. “You look great,” he said. He frowned at your fidgeting hands before grabbing them to still them. “Calm down, Ellie. She’ll forgive you.”

You shook your head. “She really shouldn’t.”

“Look, we’ve all done dumb shit. If she’s reaching out, it’s because she misses you. No one invites ya to a coffee shop to shank ya.” You snorted and he looked relieved at your laughter. “Ya sure ya don’ want me to come with ya? I don’ mind.”

“Nah. Whatever happens, it’ll be good to tell her how sorry I am.”

His face softened. “Well, I’m really glad you get this chance. 'S to have unfinished business.”

He looked so sad that you just had to pull him into a hug. You weren’t sure exactly what he was thinking about, but you knew it was something back in his home ‘verse, a universe that all of the science bros agreed didn’t even exist anymore. Talk about unfinished business.

After a few minutes, he pulled away and wiped at his damp eyes. “You better get going,” he said. “Make sure to let me know what happens!” You smiled and nodded, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek as you dashed out the door.

***

The little coffee shop was the same one that you and Sans always went to when you went out for breakfast. It was monster friendly and relatively close to New New Home. You knew that Stretch often stopped for coffee on his way to whatever adventures he got up to while everyone else was at work; it was near the bus stop so it was very convenient for him as he made his way into town.

Today, it was light and breezy despite being the end of December. You took advantage of the weather and wore your light leather jacket over a t-shirt and jeans. It was simple, classic, and a look that you knew you looked okay in. You even had some cute sunglasses to finish the ensemble and hide how nervously your eyes darted around the shop when you entered.

Anne was already there, sitting at a corner booth. She smiled widely at you and waved to you. She popped up out of the seat and dashed over, pulling you into an unexpected hug. “Hey there stranger!” she said happily.

“Hi,” you managed back.

“Let’s get some coffee,” she said, turning to the barista and thankfully allowing you some time to rearrange your face from deeply shocked to casual and friendly.

You both retrieved your frou frou drinks and returned to the corner booth. She settled in and stirred her whipped cream into her drink before finally looking up at you. You couldn't believe how nervous you were; you were just here to apologize. You knew that there wasn’t any friendship left here, but you still wanted it to go well.

You really tried to talk, to say anything. You owed it to her to be the one to start the conversation, you knew that but you just couldn’t. Instead, you fiddled with your straw wrapper and tried desperately to look her in the eye but ended up looking at the table.

Finally, she spoke up. “I’m, uh, sure you wanna know why I texted you,” she said with a crooked grin.

“It has been a while,” you admitted. You could feel that you were worrying the straw wrapper into pieces.

She nodded. “I heard through the rumor mill that you and Oliver broke up while I was traveling,” she said. That was true; she’d been out of the country when the actual breakup happened. Her parents’ house was one of the places you considered running to before you settled on sleeping in the parking lot of the school in New New Home that night, actually. You, uh, hadn’t wanted anyone to see the bruises. 

“We did,” you said. “He was even worse than you said he would be.”

Her face made a complicated expression before she spoke again. “I’m really sorry to hear that. I can’t tell you how much I wanted to be wrong.”

You laughed a little, the noise bitter and hollow. “It’s not your fault I was too stupid to see it. That’s what I wanted to say to you today. I know. I know how bad I messed this up. W-with you. If I could go back and change it, I would in a heartbeat, but since I can’t I just want to make sure you know how sorry I am for what I did.”

She stared at you blankly for a second before smiling at you. “I came to say that I’m sorry I didn’t kick his ass and drag you out of there.” You laughed, but she continued talking. “Gods, Nora, you’re my best friend and I just… Abandoned you. I heard… Mom and dad told me some of what happened and I should have stayed by your side no matter what.” She looked down at her hands that were twisting together in her lap. “I could have saved you so much heartache.”

“I wouldn’t have listened,” you told her honestly. “You did everything you could.” You paused but found you had to say something. "And, uh, not to be difficult. But. I don't go by Nora anymore. Too many… too many bad memories."

She paled. "Of course, yeah. Sorry. What… what should I call you?"

You laughed. "Literally anything else would be good. Ellie? That's what most people call me now."

"Sorry, Ellie."

"It's fine," you promised. "You didn't know. And it's not like I deserve any kind of positive treatment here anyway."

She looked at you with narrowed eyes then leaned forward a bit. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s both agree that that time of our lives was an absolute dumpster fire and just leave it burning behind us. How’s that sound?”

“Wait,” you said in shock. “Wait. Are you saying you want to be friends again?”

“‘Course. I’ve missed you so much, goldfish.” You couldn’t help but grin at the old nickname. She held out her pinkie in a challenge, leaning forward with sparkling green eyes. “We promise to let the past be the past and to start being friends again immediately.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the old gesture, one that the two of you did for centuries before your fight. Anything sealed with a pinkie promise couldn't be undone, wasn’t that the rule?

“Why now?” you asked. Your voice felt small, but you needed to know.

She sighed and looked away. “Well. I just graduated from nursing school?” You nodded to indicate that you knew that. “And one of my classmates… Um, you know him? J-Jupiter?”

“Of course,” you said. You tried to school your voice into something encouraging instead of just confused.

“He and I ended up in a lot of classes together. Lot of rotations at the same time and stuff. He kept mentioning you. I always wanted to call a-after, but I always assumed you wouldn’t want to hear from me, so I didn’t. But talking to Jupiter, I thought maybe… Maybe you would be at least willing to hear me out? He kept saying how well you were doing and how happy you were now and I just… I just wanted to try, I guess.”

You stared at her, lost for words for a second. Finally, you let out a shocked laugh and her eyes widened. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just… You thought I wouldn’t want to talk to you? That’s crazy. After I everything I did--”

She huffed and held her pinkie back out. “I meant what I said. We promise to leave the past behind and be friends again.”

“Are you sure?” you asked softly. “I would understand if--”

She laughed. “No, I’m positive.”

“Hi 'positive', I’m ‘absolutely blown away that you’d want this after my bullshittery.’”

“That name’s too long. I think I’ll just call you goldfish.”

The rest of your coffee date proceeded with… Well, not  _ no _ awkward situations, but less as time went on. She told you all about school, about her travels, about how much she loved working at the center. “I even saw your boyfriend there,” she said conspiratorially. “He came to visit the Horrorfell brothers a lot.”

“Yeah, we’re the ones that found them in Snowdin.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s awesome. How’re they doing anyway? I really liked Papyrus.”

“Goes by Hobbes now. And he’s doing really well. You should… You should come over for dinner. You could see them in person and officially meet Sans.”

She frowned. “I thought his name was Black.”

“It’s complicated.”

“I got time.”

So you told her about your life, the parts that you could. You told her all about Sans and the rest of your little found family, about getting your ancestral home back, and that you were working at the Embassy in security. You didn’t tell her the exact nature of your job, obviously, but you were able to give her a brief peek into your life now. You showed her pictures of the cats and pigeon and even some pictures of the displays that Mutt and Mars painted in the store windows. 

In return, she told you about hers. She talked about her work at the New Hope Center, about the patients that she adored, and funny stories about her coworkers. She told you about volunteering at the animal shelter on the weekends because she was too busy for a pet of her own and how her parents had taken up beekeeping, of all things. Before long, you found yourself laughing along with the old inside jokes that you nearly forgot about.

Eventually, though, it was time to part ways. She elicited a promise from you that you’d plan dinner and gave one that she'd invite you over for dinner too, and said that she couldn’t wait to meet your family, that she was so glad to see you. She pulled you into a hug before the two of you left the coffee shop. You watched her walk off into the night, then made your way back to your Jeep.

You sank into the driver’s seat and laid your head against the steering wheel, taking in deep breaths, before pulling out your cell phone. Sans had texted you to let you know that he was home and to ask you to let him know how it went. Instead of texting him, you pulled up his contact and called him. It rang twice; probably he was in the middle of making dinner. He wouldn’t mind.

“Eleanor?” You could hear the concern in his voice, but also the warmth.

“Hey, babe.”

“Are you alright?” he asked cautiously.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I am. She, uh, she wants to be friends again.”

A pause, then, “That’s wonderful! Right?”

You looked up at the stars through the windshield of your Jeep and took another deep breath. “Yeah,” you decided. “I just never thought that I’d see her again. It’s… I thought I let him ruin that too, ya know?”

“I know. But nothing is ruined.” He paused and you knew he was trying to figure out the right thing to say. Finally, he settled on, “Are you coming over for dinner? Neo is making some sort of stir fry that he insists will be delicious.”

“I would love that,” you told him, your soul flooding with warmth.

“Come on over. I love you.”

“Love you.” You hung up the phone and leaned back. Maybe you really didn’t lose as much as you thought you did in your relationship with Oliver. Maybe… Maybe you really could glue your shattered life back together.

But tonight? Tonight you had a delicious meal with your boyfriend, best friend, and their housemates to eat. You smiled and pulled out of the parking lot. Things were looking up.


	8. The Fluffy Stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is having a busy weekend, but time with Ellie just so much more interesting.

Sans hated working on Saturdays (well, since his relationship with you began anyway), but sometimes needs must. The holiday season always brought many, many,  _ many _ publicity events, all of which either he or Edge had to approve, plan, and attend. Though they split the load, it was still a heavy one. Just today, Edge was overseeing some sort of children’s event at the local mall, one that included carefully screened human and monster children in the hope of uniting the two races a bit more. Tomorrow, Sans would be at the Embassy playing host to a few human dignitaries who were essential to their plans to build a second Embassy in California soon. 

Sans had been up well before dawn in order to do go on his run, then he sequestered himself in his home office to go over some necessary paperwork, only briefly pausing when you gave him a sandwich for lunch. You'd checked that he was wearing his eye patch like a good boy, gave him a little kiss, and then left him to his work.

~~A~~ ~~ few ~~ Several hours after the sandwich, there was another knock on his office door. “Yes?” he called.

You poked your head in and smiled at him. “Hey, how’s it going in here?”

Sans held out his arm to you and you walked in, letting him pull you into his lap. “Tedious,” he said. 

“Can you take a little break?”

He considered his options. There was still a good deal of paperwork that needed to be completed and he would need to get started on dinner soon. Then there was the inevitable phone call with Edge, wherein they would discuss any issues that arose at the mall today and last-minute concerns about tomorrow. He could stay and work on that.

But then there was you, patiently looking at him with your big eyes. You’d hung around his house a lot of the day, working on your own freelance projects, and you’d been so incredibly patient while he ignored you all day. You insisted that you didn’t mind, but he still felt guilty that he hadn’t been able to spend the day with you. “What did you have in mind?”

“Not much,” you said with a shrug. “I know you’re busy. I just thought that maybe you could take a quick walk? If not, I totally understand.”

Sans didn’t bother to hide his smile, not from you. “I may be able to do that.” 

Your face positively lit up as you slid off his lap and grabbed his hand. He followed you downstairs. You let him bully you into a winter coat, hat, and gloves, but you retaliated by looping one of Mutt’s hideously colored scarves around his neck. This particular one was a gift from Stretch (probably) and featured a pattern of yellow snowmen and dogs. The joke was not lost on him.

You pulled him out the door excitedly and then stopped on the porch to stare at him. It took him a second to realize why; he had to look past you to the outside. It was  _ snowing. _ “Oh, I see. Is this why you wanted to go on a walk?” he teased.

“Maybe I just wanted to hang out with my boyfriend and the absolutely magical weather has nothing to do with it,” you sniffed, but your huge smile betrayed you. “Come on!” 

You laced your fingers through his and pulled him out into the snow. Having lived in Snowdin for a very, very long time, Sans was used to various types of snow. This one was, by far, the best type. It was light and fluffy, the kind that stuck to your coat but was so beautiful that you almost didn’t mind. Of course, in Snowdin he never really appreciated the appearance of snow in hair. Arguably, he didn’t appreciate it until just before the two of you began dating, on a mission that involved trekking up a mountain in the snow.

Your hair was longer now and hung loosely around your shoulders. The snowflakes caught in it and reminded him of ornaments on the tree. They even caught in your eyelashes and somehow made your eyes sparkle even more.

“Sans?”

Your voice startled him and, yes, you had caught him staring at you like a fool. Your head was cocked to the side and you looked a little concerned. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“You just look so beautiful,” he said honestly.

Your cheeks got even redder and you tugged on his arm. “You charmer.” 

He allowed you to pull him along, out onto the sidewalk. It was just getting dark enough for the streetlights to turn on, creating a hazy halo of light through the snow. He watched as your eyes flicked up to each light as you passed under them, totally enraptured by the snow and light.

The two of you walked quietly but it was the kind of quiet that made his soul feel full. You made pleased noises as you pointed out large fluffs of flakes falling and how the snow was gathering on the trees. There was a squirrel that the two of you stopped to watch for a few minutes, then a particularly fluffy bird caught your eye. Sans watched you try to talk to each animal that you saw, your face flushed with happiness.

“Just because our children understand English doesn’t mean your average bird will,” he told you with a grin.

“Average?! Don’t listen to him, Raymond. You are clearly an above-average bird! Just look how fluffy you are!”

Raymond hopped away from you and you watched him go. Sans came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. He could feel that you were shivering a bit. “You’re shivering,” he pointed out with a frown.

“Well, it’s winter.”

“We should head back,” he said. He pulled off his scarf and wrapped it around your neck as well. 

“But the snow,” you whined.

“It’ll still be here tomorrow. Perhaps after my meeting, we can build a snowman.”

“Okay,” you said easily. You let him guide you back to the house only to pause on the porch before you went inside.

“Dear?”

“Hold on,” you said. You leaned up on your toes and used the lapels of his coat to pull him down into a kiss. It was light and sweet, but somehow magical all the same. You pulled back after a moment and said, “Snowfall kisses are magical. Everyone knows that.”

“Hmm. Then all of the kisses in Snowdin should have been special, and I have certainly never felt anything quite like that.” You blinked at him for a second, even though you knew full well that there were no kisses happening for him in Snowdin beyond a quick experiment when he was barely out of stripes. “It must be the true love, too, that makes it magical.”

“You are so corny,” you laughed.

The porch light flipped on and the door opened. Mutt was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “‘Bout time ya brought ‘im home,” Mutt said in a faux angry voice. “An’ what’ve you kids been up to out here? We gonna have a shotgun weddin’?”

“Yes,” Sans deadpanned, “I’m pregnant and I’m keeping the baby.”

Your laughter was beautiful. “Well, you heard him. Better get my baby momma out of the cold.”

Mutt’s eyes sparkled in a way that Sans decidedly didn’t like. “Wait. This is not going to be an ongoing joke,” Sans warned.

“Sure, babe,” you said as you pulled out your phone and followed Mutt inside. “Think Edge’ll literally die if we tell him about the baby?”

“Ya know, bro, you’re gonna have to cut back your responsibilities. It ain’t good for baby for ya to be this stressed all the time,” Mutt said innocently.

“You know that people will believe you if you tell them that,” Sans whined. “No one understands how skeleton physiology works.”

“Aw, don’t worry, honey. I’ll take care of you and Baby Raymond,” you said, planting a kiss on his cheek before skipping off to make nefarious plans with his brother.

Sans sighed and shook his head, already resigning himself to the pregnancy shirts and endless jokes that would be coming his way for… the rest of his life, probably. He just couldn’t bring himself to be mad about it, not right now. Later? Probably. But right now, the image of the snow in your hair and your eyelashes and the kiss… Well, his mind was occupied elsewhere.

He did make a mental note to start planning his revenge… and to get you a bird feeder for the yard. He wanted you to be able to watch the fluffy birds from the comfort of his couch any time you wanted.


	9. Gray Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has gray days, but New Year's Eve tends to be the worst for Ellie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains a depiction of depression and mentions of past suicidal thoughts. If that is going to affect you, please don't read this one. It is cathartic for me to write about this stuff from time to time, but my depression isn't like yours, so please do what is healthy for you.

You sighed and stared out the window, your coffee doing little to combat both your gray attitude and the gray sky outside that seemed to match. Zuko jumped up on the table beside you and you petted him absently. Soon, you had two cats and a pigeon vying for your attention, but even they couldn't break through your sour mood.

You  _ hated _ this time of year.

You felt like such a scrooge for it, but you had so few good memories associated with it that all it did was serve to remind you of what you'd lost. It didn't help that, until four years ago, you hadn't had anyone to celebrate with since your parents died.

They were killed in November, so your first holiday without them came immediately after their deaths. You spent it in the mage version of the human foster care system waiting to hear if any families wanted to take in a sanguinem malum, the daughter of traitors.

Spoiler alert: They did not. 

Or, more accurately, the council simply wouldn’t allow it.

Most of your holidays after that one were spent pretending that there was no holiday. You always traveled, ran away somewhere, and usually spent Christmas day sitting in a shitty diner nursing day-old coffee and watching the other family-less losers do the same. You kept a few of your family's traditions alive--you did the festival of misrule in your own way by unscrewing salt shakers and glitter bombing the doors of gas station bathrooms, and you always found a log to watch burn while you cast the unpleasant memories of the year into the flames--but mostly you just did your best to act like the holidays didn't exist.

That should've changed when you started dating Oliver, you could see that now, but at the time his excuse that his parents hated you and so you couldn't come celebrate with them made perfect sense to you. Those years, you only spent  _ most  _ of Christmas in the shitty diner watching people lose their minds when the salt shaker dumped a metric ton of salt into their food. The evening was spent with Oliver and he always got you a  thoughtful expensive gift and had sweet nothings to whisper and you figured that was fine. He didn't like the festival of misrule, wouldn't have a prank war with you no matter how you begged, and he spurned the Yule log and tree decoration tradition as well, so those years felt even more adrift than ever before. 

The holiday after you left Oliver, you ran. You knew the skeletons would welcome you to join them, were probably even expecting it, but you just couldn't. You drove halfway across the country before you could breathe again and stayed in the cold mountains for nearly a month before returning. That'd pissed Sans right off, but you couldn't help smiling when you remembered his ire. Though he could hardly stand you at the time, he hounded you constantly. When you ignored his (and everyone else's) texts, calls, and emails, he was the one who finally got a response when he threatened to use his 'considerable experience, magnificent skills, and all of the resources that the Embassy had to offer' to hunt you down himself and make sure you were alive.

You were alive, but you sure  _ wished _ you weren't. It wasn’t the first ~~_(or last)_~~ time that you considered ending it all, but it certainly was the most tempting time. And that, more than anything else, scared you about the holidays. They had so much hold over you, could sap your strength as surely as any magic spell, and you had a sense of dread and foreboding as they approached.

_ You didn’t want to ever feel like that again. _

The next year, you were far closer to the skeletons and had just begun dating Sans. He remembered the stunt you pulled the year before and wouldn’t let you out of his sight as Gyftmas approached. You felt itchy, desperately wanted to run, but you didn’t and you were so, so glad you hadn’t. That was the first year that Mutt and Stretch joined you for the festival of misrule, the first time you received gifts from more than just one or two people, each of them thoughtful and touching. You went home that night and cried into your pillow, pouring your complicated feelings out in burning tears. Two tiny kittens laid on the bed with you, neither sure what crying was or why you were doing it.

Every Gyftmas night since then was spent sharing a bed with Sans. You didn’t cry like that again ~~_(_~~ _didn't want to worry him, he didn't deserve that),_ but you still always left feeling deeply conflicted. On the one hand, you deeply loved your little family with every inch of your battered soul. They gave you thoughtful gifts and liked your gifts in return. You were happy the whole time that you were there, so excited to be surrounded by warmth and love and magic, but the second you left, your soul dropped into the pit of your stomach and left you miserable. Those nights, you lay awake and tried to understand why you felt like shit even though you were happy, you were, you really were.

And somehow New Years was fucking worse.

And now it was New Year’s Eve and you were staring out your window, wishing that you didn’t have to deal with another year. There was just so much to work through: your soul, your relationship with Sans, everything with Oliver, your parents… Each problem was a brick that was building a wall around you, one that you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to climb over.

Before you knew it, you were crying silently, and that was bloody annoying because it wouldn’t be all that long before you were supposed to go over to Jupiter and Mars’s house to ring in the New Year and you were going to have to do some serious makeup touching up if you were going to sneak this little cry session past the Sanses, Mutt, and Stretch.

The sudden pop of teleportation told you that you wouldn’t be sneaking _anything_ by  _ anyone. _ You groaned and scrubbed your eyes with your hands. Maybe, just this one time, he wouldn’t notice. His powers had been known to falter in the past. Both of the cats abandoned you to flirt with Sans in the living room, giving you another minute to compose yourself.

Too bad it really doesn’t work like that.

The door to the kitchen opened and Sans was standing there just looking at you. You looked away from him and tried to force back the shame and irritation you felt. This was a good day, a happy day, how you were feeling was ridiculous.  _ Of course _ you were happy to spend another year with him. How could you be anything less than thrilled? Your life rocked.

_ And yet. _

You felt a blanket flump over your shoulders and you looked over at Sans in surprise and confusion. He raised a brow at you and then, without saying a word, scooped you into his arms. “Hey!” you cried weakly, but you didn’t really want to argue with him. You grabbed onto the collar of his shirt and buried your face in his shoulder, uncaring of where you were going. It was fine. It was all fine.

He simply carried you to the couch, where he settled you so that you were laying against him. He snaked an arm around your shoulders and turned on the TV with the other. He tuned into the episode of Survivor that the two of you were ready for and settled in for it.

Slowly, your tears eased. You found yourself sniffling and emerging from his shoulder to look at the TV. Before long, you couldn't help rolling your eyes at the drama as the losing tribe argued about who to vote off, even though Ted was clearly the right choice. When the TV wanted to know if you wanted another episode, Sans pressed yes and the theme song began again.

Only then did you look up at him. “Sorry,” you said softly.

“No,” he told you. He kissed your forehead gently then added, “I know how you feel about the holidays, love. There is no need to be sorry.”

You gave him a watery sigh. “I really am happy.”

“I know that. You are going to have bad days; that does not mean that you are not happy with your life.” He glanced at you. “I trust that you would tell me if you were not.” You nodded mutely and he smiled. “As long as that is true, this is fine.”

You snuggled up against him a little more and whispered, “I wish I wasn’t like this.” Your soul ached with the confession and fresh tears threatened to fall.

“Well,” he said slowly and carefully, “you know that Swapfell did not prepare me for anything except bluntness.” You stiffened. Was this where he finally tells you he’s sick of your bullshit? “The truth is, you have depression. There will be bad days, and I desperately wish that you did not have to go through them, but the fact is you do. It does not make me love you any less or wish to not be around you when you are going through them. All I want is to be here for you in whatever way you want me to.” Another gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love you, even the parts that you don’t like.”

You leaned up to give him a real kiss and then a raw, “I love you too,” because it was all that you could do.

“Now,” he said, “would you like to keep doing this or would you prefer something else? Perhaps a nap?”

“This is nice,” you said. “But we’ll have to get ready to go to the party soon.”

“You know we don’t have to go if you don’t feel like it,” he told you. “If you’d rather do this all night, I would be perfectly content with that.”

“The guys would be disappointed.”

“Are you joking? Half the family also has depression. If there is a family in the multiverse that would understand, it is them.”

You sighed. True, but you still didn't want to let anyone down or to make Sans miss the party. “Can I decide after this episode?”

“Whatever you need, love.”

You snuggled deeper into the blankets and let Sans be there for you a little longer.


	10. Campfire Under the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge and Sans take a weekend hiking trip

Sans and Edge made it a habit to engage in activities that they mutually enjoyed throughout the course of their friendship. They'd tried all kinds of things, from making pottery to sky diving, and they were constantly adding new ideas to their repertoire. They had some old favorites that they routinely returned to as well, which was their plan for this weekend. They hadn't been on a hiking trip since Edge and Stretch got married and they were both anxious to spend some time out in nature testing their mettle. Since neither of their mates was even remotely interested in such activities, they planned a weekend hiking trip together and left you and Stretch to spend the weekend eating too much junk food with Mutt.

This time, they decided to sign up for a group hike up the mountain. Neither of them had ever attempted a winter climb before and they thought it would be beneficial to have a seasoned guide to assist them. Unfortunately, that did not seem to be the case on this hike. Sans and Edge turned out to be the most prepared partners on the trip. Every other team seemed more interested in holding hands and teasing one another than completing the hike. He couldn’t help noting their subpar equipment. One couple was walking in tennis shoes for stars sake! They were poorly insulated for the cold and the guide seemed only mildly more prepared. He was an excitable human man that told them his name was Steve and he’d be their ‘starlight guide.’ What the hell even was that?

So, even though it was their vacation, he and Edge stepped up to help protect the stupid humans, just as they always seemed to have to. Edge quickly took point, leading the group up the trail and watching for any dangers they may encounter. Sans fell back to bring up the rear and watch their back. At first, Steve tried to protest, asking if they were sure, surely they wanted to spend the hike together… 

Of course they did! But they weren’t about to let anyone die a snowy death. Not on their watch.

They set a fairly grueling pace, interrupted every so often by Steve declaring that it was time to ‘make a memory.’ Then, he would give them ridiculous activities to participate in along the trail. There was a team photoshoot at an overlook, trust falls, and a massage break. It was simply asking for trouble, but he and Edge participated just like everyone else. The others seemed to enjoy the gods damned memory-making more than the actual hike itself, somehow choosing to embrace the stupid activities over the physical exertion and challenge.

Edge did give a good back massage, though.

Sans was relieved when they reached the camp that first night. It was a flat valley that was lightly dusted in snow. Their tent was designed for winter sport, so he knew that he and Edge would be plenty warm. Besides, skeletons weren’t as sensitive to cold as humans and mages. The two of them got their tent up very quickly and then split up to help the others get their tents set up properly.

“See,” Sans explained to a young human named Xander, “you just have to drive these spikes in, here. It will keep your tent from sinking into the mud.”

Xander’s hiking partner, Blake, was just as hopeless, but at least seemed to be listening and trying to do what Sans was telling him to. “You know that this is supposed to be a couple’s bonding activity,” Blake grumbled while he worked on the tent pegs under Sans’s careful scrutiny.

“I fail to see how that’s relevant.”

“Shouldn’t you be with your partner?”

Sans glanced over at Edge, who was helping another team set up their tent. Both of them seemed pleased to receive help. “He is assisting others with their tents.”

“Leave ‘im alone, Blakey,” Xander said, swatting at him. “He’s helping us. So tell us your story, Black? How’d you and Edge meet?”

Strange question, but, “We met when our universes collapsed into this one, stranding us here.”

They both laughed. “You can just say online dating. There’s nothing to be ashamed of! We met through an app and we couldn’t be happier together!” Xander said. Black shrugged. He wasn’t lying and he wasn’t going to waste his time arguing with this human.

“I gotta know,” Blake said, leaning in conspiratorially, “how does it work with skeletons?”

“Excuse me?”

“... You know.” Blake elbowed him and then made a very crude gesture. Sans felt magic rush to his face.

“I fail! To see! How! That! Relates to your tent!”

“Yeah, guess that’s more a question for your tent, isn’t it?” Blake said, his voice all weird and slimy.

“Leave him alone,” Xander repeated. “Thanks for your help, Black!”

Sans nodded stiffly and made his way towards Edge, who appeared to be finishing up with the couple he’d been helping if the way the human hugged him was any indication. They met in the middle, back at their tent. “Did everyone get their tents set up?” Sans asked.

Edge nodded. “Everyone seems to be set for the night. I inspected Tina and Jake’s sleeping bag--they only brought one!--and it did not seem warm enough to me, but they both claimed they’d just keep each other warm.”

Sans frowned. “We will have to keep an eye on them. Stars, how could anyone be so unprepared for an expedition? I’m beginning to see why so many human explorers died on their missions back in the day.”

“Alright, everyone! It’s time for our campfire under the stars!” Steve called.

“What…?” Sans muttered.

Edge gave a long-suffering sigh. “We may as well go find out what fresh hell this is.”

Steve had somehow managed to build a fairly competent campfire. Everyone else had their candles (the packing list insisted on 'fragrant candles' for some reason), so Sans retrieved his and Edge’s from the tent before settling onto the ground next to Edge. He rolled his eyes at how the other partners were huddled together; clearly, their gear was not warm enough if they needed to share body heat like that. 

Steve smiled happily at the little group. “I am so honored that you chose to join us for our adventure!” he said. “First, we will have some music to get us all in the mood.” He pulled out a guitar and Sans was fairly certain he nearly worsened his eye light injury by rolling his eye lights so hard. Steve played some modern diddy that neither he nor Edge knew; from what he did catch, it seemed to be about true love. Certainly not an appropriate topic for a hiking trip and nevermind that the other teams seemed to be entranced by it.

Three songs later, everyone else was even more snuggled together, thus confirming Sans’s belief that their weather gear was subpar. Steven finally put the guitar away--thank the stars--and retrieved a candle. “Every couple has someone who initiated,” he said with a glint in his eyes. The other partners elbowed one another and laughed. “Whoever that was, have them come forward and light their candle from the fire of love.” Sans watched in confusion as the other teams each sent one person forward to light a candle.

He turned to Edge. “Which of us…?”

“I believe I was interested before you,” Edge said. “You were not open to much upon arrival here.”

Sans squawked, but Edge wasn’t wrong. “Just go light the damn candle,” he muttered. Edge grinned and did just that, returning with the carefully lit flame. Blake grinned stupidly at Sans. Sans chose to ignore him.

“Now, use your candle to pass the love light to your partner,” Steve said, “and think about how your relationship began!” Edge shrugged and touched the flame of his candle to the wick of Sans’s. It caught fire quickly and they both pulled them back to shelter the flame. Sans glanced around and saw that the other teams were… Well, the only word he could come up with was ‘snuggling’ and whispering to one another. 

"Would you like to snuggle and discuss how we met?" Sans asked in a faux sweet voice.

Edge barely held back a chuckle, which was as good as a barrel laugh coming from him. "You mean waking up in Sans's Snowdin, fighting one another in the forest, and then coming to the surface and becoming friends?"

"I was thinking the time that you broke your leg on patrol and I had to blue magic you home," Sans said with a grin.

"That--"

"That is so romantic!" Blake squealed.

Neither Sans nor Edge had a response for that; they were both just left sputtering at the human.

“Very good,” Steve said, interrupting their complete mental breakdowns. “Now your flame of love is burning brightly. Hopefully, after this trip, your flame will only burn brighter between you and your partner! That’s our goal here; to help you reignite and brighten your flame.” His eyes scanned the crowd. “Go on. Give them a kiss. Let them know how brightly your love burns!”

Sans and Edge looked at one another, both of their eye lights snuffed out in surprise. “Uh,” Sans said stiffly.

“Is this…?” Edge stammered.

“Come on; don’t be shy!” Steve cooed at them. “Give him a smooch! Let him know you love him!”

Sans and Edge looked at Steve and then back at one another. “We have made a grievous error,” Edge said.

“We are never going to hear the end of this,” Sans groaned.


	11. Fun For The Whole Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are entertaining for skeletons, mages, cats, and birds too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed some cute little drabbles this week!

“Honey, I’m home!” you called pleasantly as you shoved open the door of your house and held it for Comic to follow you in. He gave you a ‘port (you refused to call it a ‘ride’, not since Red almost passed out laughing when he offered to let you ride him home one day early in your friendship) home after you finished briefing Edge on your team’s latest case. Man, you would be glad when Sans was back in the field. His job was just _so much more wor_ k than yours. It did come with a substantial raise, though, which went a nice way towards paying for your new hot water heater. It almost made you want to let him pay for more stuff if that was the kind of dough he was bringing in all of the time.

Almost.

When no one answered you, you frowned. Sans and Mutt were hanging out at your house today with the hopes that the pets would entertain Sans for more than 10 seconds. Red was supposed to meet Comic here too, so what was going on? The cats didn’t even meet you at the door like they usually did! 

You wandered through the living room and past the swinging door into the kitchen and froze. You found your everyone--all three skeletons and both cats--in the kitchen staring motionless at the ceiling. Butters was quietly cooing while he preened his feathers; whatever was bothering everyone else seemed of little interest to him. The whole situation was so damn weird that you immediately focused on trying to feel any alliumagic present in the house. You didn’t feel anything, so you turned your attention back to the odd group.

The cats were all perched on the table staring at the ceiling with round eyes. The boys were standing in an odd triangle in the center of the kitchen staring at the same spot as the cats. You followed their stares and blinked.

“Uh… Are you guys all staring at that moth?” you asked.

Without looking away, Mutt murmured, “‘S pretty.”

You looked up at it quizzically. It was pretty, you guessed, but it wasn’t like some sort of incredible work of art or something. It was yellow with pretty red details on the tips of the wings. Each wing had a black circle that would look like an eye if you were a bird or whatever. Yeah, pretty, but not ‘stand in the kitchen and stare’ pretty.

“Thought all moths were jus’ brown,” Red said.

“Most do seem to be brown,” Sans agreed. “But this one is yellow and red! And look at its wings.”

“‘S the  _ Automeris io _ ,” Comic said. He had his phone out and was tippity-tapping on the screen. “Native to this area. The circles make predators think ‘s bigger than it is.”

“So cool,” Mutt said. “I, uh, hold on.” He disappeared into the void but reappeared only a few seconds later, this time holding one of his sketchbooks and some art supplies. He promptly plopped himself down on the floor and began drawing earnestly.

The moth moved a little on the ceiling and all of the skeletons made little strangled noises, but it didn’t fly off. Your cats made that weird clacking sound that cats make when they want to kill something. Luckily, you were fairly confident that your cats were not capable of catching a moth. You didn’t think that the murder of everyone’s new favorite creature would go over well. You happily pulled out your phone and took a few pictures of the little gathering, then leaned over to Comic, who was taking some photos of his own and looking at Red with an indulgent expression. “Do you think we should get everyone else over here since these guys are enjoying this moth so much?”

He shot you a lazy grin. “Sounds good. Brb.” He popped out of existence, presumably to round up the rest of the skeleton clan to look at the moth on your ceiling. You settled onto the floor and leaned against the counter; Butters abandoned his pruning to flutter to your lap. You pet him gently and made a mental note to plan an outing to a butterfly garden. If the boys loved this moth so much, you couldn’t wait to see what they would do if they saw a bunch of butterflies.

It was just a moth, but it really was a pretty one. Trust your boys to remind you how beautiful the world was, even things as simple as a little moth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is based on a picture I saw on the internet somewhere in which a whole family is gathered and looking at a moth in the kitchen. I tried to find it to show you but, alas, I could not. But it sounded precious.


	12. PJs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mutt comes home to an unexpected sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still just need some fluff! It's been a long week!

Mutt was bone tired. He was the laziest damn monster around, leagues lazier than any other Sans-ish skeleton (they made a Laziness Rating System once to finally settle the running bet between them. Red lost and that was the first time Mutt saw him punch clean through a wooden door… which was really only evidence that their rating system worked and was correct that Red was the least lazy of the lazy bones), but somehow he had three damn jobs. Even his older bro only had one! But… He couldn’t leave the Scoobies, not ever, and he liked doin’ the dumb parties with Mars an’ Jupe, and there was somethin’ real cool ‘bout seein’ his art all over town.

So. Three jobs.

It was a late night helping the Mars and Jupiter bake cookies for a party the next day; the host decided to invite thirty more people without giving any notice, so they had to make more cookies and get more paint ready. When they finally finished at Middle Of The Night O’Clock, he was exhausted. He ‘ported into the livin’ room ready to collapse on the couch. That was the best way to guarantee that Sans’d feed ‘im ‘fore he left for work. If he was in ‘is room, Sans was way less likely insist he get up an’ eat. Couldn’ stop himself from mother hennin’ if he found Mutt asleep on the couch, though, and Mutt wouldn’ admit it for money or torture but he’d missed Sans’s cookin’ this month.

Luckily, Mutt had good reflexes, because his swan dive onto the couch was interrupted when he noticed that it wasn’ as empty as he expected. He managed to tuck into a roll harmlessly and popped up to examine what he’d found. 

The living room lights were off, but the Netflix menu was cyclin’ through commercials, so it was safe to assume you’d been watchin’ a movie or somethin’. You and his bro were all curled up, probs on a lil couch date, but you were both asleep. Your head was tucked up against his chest; his arm was around your shoulders and his skull leaned against your head. It was all very domestic.

It wasn’ the cute nappin’ that got his attention (though that was really hella cute), but what the two of you were wearing. He recognized the long t-shirt you had on; it was so long that it hung all the way down past your knees. It was a garish pink and had the words “Southern Gal” scrawled across the front in the worst handwriting font Mutt’d ever seen. It was the shirt Sans got from the gas station on the road trip a bit back and he forced himself to bite back a snicker at the sight.

His brother’s outfit was, somehow, better. He was wearin’ his normal black silk sleep pants (like the prissy little princess he was) but the shirt. It was huge on ‘im and the text made it clear why. In flowy script it said “Pregasaurus” above a little cartoon dinosaur. 

Mutt had no idea how you got Sans into the prank shirt but he wasn’ one to ignore an opportunity, so he whipped out his phone and took a few pics before gently poking you. You roused a little and looked up at him with sleepy eyes. Sans grumbled and tightened his grip on you. 

“Babe, bro’s home,” you slurred.

“Wonderful.”

“He means ‘come sit with us.’” You gently smacked Sans before patting the cushion beside you. “Don’t worry; I brought yours down, too.” You chucked a purple shirt at him that he immediately recognized as his own from the road trip. He grinned, then shrugged off his jacket and tank top before yanking the shirt over his head. He clambered onto the couch beside you and you promptly kicked your legs up into his lap.

“What’re we doin’?” Mutt asked.

“Sleeping, you mongrel,” Sans growled.

“Or watching Netflix until you’re sleeping,” you amended. You leaned close to Mutt to whisper, “Your brother missed you.”

“Slander! Slander and lies!” Sans muttered, still more asleep than not.

“Sure, babe,” you said, patting his arm. “Stay down here and hang with us for a while?”

Mutt grinned and kicked his legs up on the couch beside you, stretching out so he could plop his feet in Sans’s lap. Sans grumbled but didn’t move them away. Mutt smiled and snuggled into the couch cushions while you retrieved the remote.

“How’d ya get ‘im in the maternity shirt?” Mutt asked.

You laughed. “He hasn’t learned to never bet against me yet.”

“You cheat and we both know it,” Sans groused.

“Aw, cute that you think I have to cheat to beat you at Jenga.”

“I! Have very steady claws!”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek and said, “Sure, sure. That’s why you’re wearing the preggers shirt. Don’t worry; we all know that pregnancy makes everything harder. All those hormones.”

“Hear it’s worse when the baby comes,” Mutt said sagely.

“You’re both the worst,” Sans said.

“Shut up an’ go to sleep,” Mutt said.

“No you.”

“Ugh, both of you,” you said. You selected some comedy show you’d all seen enough times no one’d need to concentrate on it and settled back into the cushions. “You need your rest, hon, since you’re resting for two now.”

Mutt laughed and settled in for a night of listening to the two of you bicker until he fell asleep. Mario Kart took care of your insomnia, you took care of Sans’s, and this... This took care of his. Just sittin’ on the couch listenin’ to you and Sans bullshit each other, voices full of love. It sounded like safety. It sounded like home.


	13. Rosie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie takes the cats to the vet and meets a new friend (and literally the worst human being)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a tough week so I wanted to have some nice fluff. Of course, my brain can't do just a full week of fluff. Gotta do angst, can't live without angst.
> 
> TW: Mentions of euthanizing an animal (THIS DOES NOT ACTUALLY HAPPEN I AM NOT A MONSTER AND IT IS NOT ANY OF ELLIE'S PETS)

Taking cats to the vet was, arguably, the worst. Your two fluffy children believed that they should share a carrier together (despite the fact that Zuko alone tipped the scales at 20 pounds) and screamed the entire time when you put them in separate ones for their safety. Plus, Nugget always acted like you were straight up betraying her when you tricked her into the carrier with treats, and nevermind that vet visits were essential to their health. No, they could only be a sign of the upcoming apocalypse. You were especially inclined to grumble about their yearly visits; nothing was wrong with them, they just needed a little cat maintenance. You knew it was important but damn were they irritating about it.

You sat in the small waiting room with the two carriers at your feet, quietly telling your children to quit screaming and you would give them literally any treat they desired, waiting for the vet to call you back to the examination room. You were distracted from your pity party by the front door shoving open. A human man bustled in with a medium-ish dog behind him. The dog was tan-colored and extremely round. Her chocolate eyes were surrounded by faded white fur, indicating that she was an older model, but she seemed to have plenty of pep in her step.

“Can I help you, sir?” the girl at the front desk asked.

“Yah, I wanna see the vet.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Nah, but I need ta put this girl down.”

Your heart plummeted into your stomach and tears immediately pricked at your eyes. You knew that someday you would have to deal with the passing of your cats and you couldn’t imagine the pain this man had to feel. (Well, you could. Your parents died when you were a kid, after all, but still.) Your heart went out to him and you could feel yourself sniffling already. You had healing magic; maybe you--

“I am so sorry to hear that, sir. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“She’s just impossible ta deal with! She was my sister’s an’ we have two other dogs. Got the grandkids a puppy for Christmas and they jus’ aren’t into this one. You understand, yeah?”

Oh no. You were going to straight murder a fool in this waiting room.

“Sir, we don’t--”

“Jus’ call out the vet. I got other stuff ta do today.”

Yeah, you were going to kill him.

You were on your feet and walking towards the desk before you realized what you were doing. You dropped to a knee beside the dog and patted her head. She wagged her tail. “So she’s not sick?” you asked, trying to keep your voice breezy.

“Nah, nah. Pain in the ass, though.”

“Mmhmm. What’s her name?”

“Rosie. After some scientist,” he said. “Idiot name for a dog.”

“Okay,” you said resolutely. “Sir, if you just don’t want her, I’ll take her off your hands.”

“Ya don’ wanna do that.”

“I can assure you that I do.” He didn’t need to know about his impending murder should he fail to agree.

He blinked at you for a minute before laughing gruffly. “I don’ give a shit whatcha do wit’ it. Saves me a vet bill.” And just like that, he pressed the leash into your hands and stalked out of the office.

You looked from the receptionist to the dog and back, then eloquently said, “Um.”

“That was cool of you,” the woman said. “I’ll getcha back to an exam room.” Before you could protest, she was bouncing over to pick up your cat carriers and leading you into a side room. “The vet’ll be with you shortly.”

And just like that, you were alone with a dog and two screaming cats.

You looked at her and grimaced. You really weren’t a huge dog fan. Sure, they were cute and you didn’t regret protecting her from that guy, but you didn’t think you could actually have a dog. You mentally ran through your list of people that could help before pulling out your phone and pulling up Anne’s contact.

“Sup goldfish?” she asked after the second ring.

“Um. So. I. Okay, there’s a dog.”

“What?”

You relayed the story to her and, as you did, you actually did shed a few tears. You  _ wanted _ to keep the dog, but you knew you  _ couldn’t, _ not with two cats and a bird. Besides, Sans and Papyrus (Comic’s brother, not Mutt) were both low-key afraid of them and you couldn’t do that to them. You wiped your nose on your sleeve impatiently.

“Poor girl! You know, it’s okay to murder people that do shit like that,” Anne said philosophically.

“I don’t disagree. But what do I do?”

“I get off in an hour. We’ll take her to the shelter.”

“Anne! I don’t want to just send her to a shelter!”

“Hey,” she said, “you’ve been there. You know how nice it is. It’s a great place and they’ll take good care of her. I’ll see her like three times a week and you can come see her, too. If you can’t take her then this is the next best option.”

You sighed and looked down at Rosie. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“It’ll be fine. You did a good thing, goldfish. I’m proud of you.”

You looked down at Rosie, feeling a lot of feelings and none of them proud.

***

The shelter really was nice. The guy working there knew Anne and, after hearing the story, didn’t charge you a rehoming fee. “That guy’s a bastard,” he said angrily. He knelt beside Rosie and his fingers sparked with green magic. “We’re gonna take great care of ya, girl.”

Rosie didn’t seem overly concerned either way. She just let him pet her soothingly and wagged her tail a bit. She eventually laid down on the floor, flopping over so that he could rub her rotund belly. She looked pretty happy, you had to admit.

“Um. I brought her some stuff?” you said. You held out a bag that you’d filled at the local pet store on your way over. It was brimming with dog food and toys and treats, all of the things you would have bought if you’d been able to keep her. “I… I’m so sorry I can’t take her.” You looked down at your feet. You were really sorry; you hated to leave her here. You didn’t feel any better than that guy at the vet.

The mage hopped up and took the bag from you, then handed you back a bag of treats. “Go ahead and give her a few.” You blinked at him. “And don’t be sorry. You saved her life today and I promise we are going to find her a wonderful home.”

You swallowed back your snappish reply and knelt beside Rosie. She took the treats happily and licked your hand clean for good measure. Eventually, the mage showed you where Rosie would be staying. It wasn’t a cold kennel like you feared; it was a smallish room with a dog bed in it (she had two now, seeing as you bought her a memory foam one) and a cute food bowl already full of kibble. Rosie trotted right on in like she already owned the place and curled up on the bed to go to sleep. You gave a watery sigh and then left with Anne.

Back in the Jeep, you looked over at her. “I, uh, want to come with you when you come back? If I’m not working. I want to see her again. If you don’t mind.”

Anne grinned at you. “I would love that, and I’m sure Rosie would, too.”

***

From the reception you received when Anne dropped you off at Sans’s house, you figured she probably texted him and told him what happened. Either that, or he just really was that observant. Either way, he was waiting for you when you got there. He herded you to the couch, where he immediately mummified you with a fluffy blanket and shoved a cup of cocoa into your hands. He disappeared for a second and reappeared with a plate stacked high with cookies, then plopped himself next to you and pulled you against him. You ended nearly on top of him with one of his arms around your shoulders and the other trying to feed you a cookie.

“I’m okay,” you not-quite-lied to him.

He looked at you like you just tried to tell him that you didn’t like cookies now.

“Okay, ‘okay’ is a strong word,” you admitted. You pressed against him and he tightened his grip on you. “I just… This guy…”

“Anne texted me,” he interrupted gently. “I’m so proud of you.”

You scoffed. “You shouldn’t be. I abandoned her, too.”

“There is a huge difference between what you did and what that man did,” Sans said, his voice making it clear that this was not something he was going to argue with you about. “You saved her life, insisted on buying her all sorts of comfort items, and took her somewhere that will help her. You did a good thing, love, and not everyone would have.”

“Everyone that isn’t a dick would have.”

He sighed. “Well, then, you should be happy that you’re not a dick.”

You barked a laugh at the unfamiliar phrase coming from your boyfriend. “Babe!” you said through hysterical giggles.

He smiled at you and snuggled against you. “We will visit her and make sure she never wants for anything. The shelter has my number already and has been  _ strongly advised _ to contact me with any needs that the dog--Rosie?--has while she stays there.”

You looked up at him and you felt like your heart might actually explode with love. He was the captain of the royal guard in a Fellverse where monsters were just as soon kill one another as look at each other. Other monsters went insane with hate with lower LV than his. LV was supposed to make you calloused, cold, unfeeling and he had more than almost any monster you knew. But here he was, calling the shelter and threatening them into calling him if a dog that he never met (and would be scared of if he did, though he wouldn’t admit it) needed literally anything. He was feeding you cookies and telling you that the two of you would visit her, even though his schedule was unyieldingly busy.

He wouldn’t accept hearing any of that from you; he didn’t take kindly to hearing nice stuff about himself. Instead, you pressed yourself up so that you could kiss him, pouring as much intent as possible into it. You felt him gasp as the intent washed over him and then he kissed you back, equally sweet. After a few minutes you leaned back and smiled up at him. “I love you so much.”

He huffed. “Well, I love you, too. Now, eat the cookies and drink the cocoa.”

You settled back and did as your Captain of the Royal Guard ordered.


	14. GPS vs. Captains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> GPS: 1  
> Captains: 0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FlyWithSerenity asked: So what is up with Sans and his hate of using the GPS? Is it a honor thing? Is his inner Zuko coming out?
> 
> This is the story of why Sans refuses to use a GPS.

Two months on the surface wasn’t nearly long enough for  ~~ Sans ~~ Black to feel entirely comfortable leaving his brother in New New Home, but needs must. The diplomats were called to meet with the leaders of the human government and the king requested--and yes, it was an _actual request_ that he would have been _allowed to decline_ if he chose; this Asgore was a far weaker leader than Queen Toriel had been (long may she reign)--that he join the convoy as a member of security.

Edge insisted on being the one to drive the rented car through the busy streets of the unfamiliar city. Black could have fought him for it (he was certain he would have won) but the king also told them to use magic only as a last resort. The fight would have been reduced to fisticuffs and, while Black can hold his own in a fistfight, the idea held little appeal. Better to let Edge have his way and drive the car while Black kept a sharp eye on the map and their surroundings. 

The car was equipped with a blasted GPS system, one with a cold computer voice that ordered them around as if they couldn’t decide where to go on their own. When they first arrived, Mutt gushed over the technology, excitedly telling Black about how it worked with satellites orbiting the planet. As fascinating as the mathematics behind the process was, Black didn’t see the appeal of the device itself. It only reminded him that the world was much bigger than the one he’d previously inhabited, far larger than he could cover in a single teleport. If something were to happen back in New New Home, he would not be able to reach his brother to help and that irked him.

Besides, the voice on the thing was grating.

Edge did not seem to share his concerns about the technology or, if he did, he did not express it verbally. Edge did very little verbal expression, actually, and Black found that refreshing. Their first month in this universe was spent sharing this universe’s soft set of brothers’ small home in Snowdin with all of the alternates. With five sets of brothers all attempting to share one bathroom and kitchen, the noise had been intolerable. And now? Now, he had even more interminable noise in his life in the form of a loud-mouthed, disrespectful mage who burned through all of his patience by simply existing. He could admit to himself that it was nice to share a quiet car ride with a competent skeleton who, while maybe couldn’t be strictly considered a friend, could be called a tolerable acquaintance.

Black didn't have “friends.” Black had enemies, potential enemies, and his brother.

“I thought that the statehouse was closer to the center of the city,” Edge said, breaking the silence. Black looked around and realized that they had passed into the outskirts of the metropolis. He stiffened and checked the GPS. It was, indeed, set for the statehouse and the little marker indicated that they were close.

“The infernal device indicates that it is just ahead,” Black said. “Mutt says that they are reliable," he added as if that would assuage his doubts.

Edge nodded. “Red does as well. I suppose that we will simply have to trust the machine.”

That rubbed Sans all kinds of the wrong way, but there was nothing for it. He didn’t even have a paper map of the city; the thing was the only way they had to find their way. Mutt was insistent that there was no need to mistrust it, but Mutt also sent Undernet messages to their Dr. Undyne and this universe’s soft Dr. Alphys, so his opinion wasn’t to be trusted in these matters.

They turned the last corner indicated by the GPS and both Captains of the Royal Guard tensed. Instead of a parking lot or street like they expected, they found themselves in a narrow alleyway that dead-ended into a brick wall. Black knew a trap when he saw one; the device led them to an ambush. “I will teleport ahead,” he said low. Edge gave a barely perceptible nod, his magic buzzing agitatedly around them. 

There were a few doorways and a dumpster in the alley. Black assumed that the ambush would come from those, so he elected to completely ignore them and feign  ~~ stupidity ~~ confusion by checking over the solid brick wall in front of him. He heard the footsteps behind him before the voice spoke. It sounded like a young female, but he was awful at estimating the ages and genders of humans. “Well lookie what we have here, boys,” they said with an ugly smugness that made him roll his eye lights. They sounded like a supervillain in one of the superhero movies that Blue insisted they watch at 'sibling bonding movie night'.

He was surprised to feel the stir of magic that didn’t belong to him or Edge, but his instincts kicked in with plenty of time to sidestep the blast. He narrowed his eyes at the scorch mark left on the brick wall from the blast of orange magic.

“Mages,” Black said. “Don’t your people have a treaty with monsters?”

Their leader, a short and slender human with a mop of purple hair, laughed. “No one asked us! We didn’t want a treaty!”

The mages behind her(?) called up their own magic, their hands all flashing varying shades of orange. Bravery, justice, determination, or some combination thereof. He did note that their magic burned brightly; they were still young enough that they hadn’t perverted their souls and warped them into obsession, pessimism, or vengeance. He idly wondered how ambushing a monster in an alley would impact them, but ultimately he didn’t care. They should have worried about the state of their souls before they chose to attack them. “The bit with the GPS was clever,” Black said conversationally. “How did you accomplish that?” He shifted his weight so that he was in a better position to attack.

“Billy’s sis works at the rental place,” the leader said with a shrug. “Just had to reprogram the thing.”

“Clever,” Black lied.

That seemed to remind them that they weren’t in school answering questions from a teacher; they were in an alley to kill some monsters. The leader’s face twisted into a snarl that reminded Black of one of the small children back in Swapfell before they got their first LV. Level bait, the locals called them. Black smirked.

He felt the blast of magic a millisecond before it would have hit him, sidestepping just fast enough to dodge the blast. He felt the blistering heat grazing his arm and grimaced, surprised that such incompetent fools could produce such a quick and powerful attack. Another blast sent him spinning again and he called up his bone scythe to defend himself. He knocked a volley of attacks back with practiced ease, but he could admit that he underestimated these children. They were more powerful than he thought they would be; he may even go so far as to break a sweat fighting them!

He took a moment to wonder where Edge got off to, but it didn't matter. He had this handled.

Two well-placed blue bones froze two of his attackers in their tracks; another one pierced the leader, who stopped and growled at him. “Get your magic off of me, monster filth!”

Black tsked at them. “That isn’t very nice,” he said with a mournful shake of his head. “I imagine that your Mage Council will be very interested to hear that you attacked their new monster all--”

Black’s self-indulgent speech was cut off by him tripping over a discarded bottle of alcohol in the alley like an idiot. He snarled as he fell. That moment of distraction allowed the leader to pull free and charge him with a dark orange hammer attack drawn. He braced himself for the hit; it was going to hurt like hell, of that he had no doubt. Mages could pack a wallop of intent and this one definitely had a lot of negative feelings. He would probably survive it, but it was going to be painful. Not as painful as his shattered pride, perhaps, but painful nevertheless.

Magic crackled around him and he blinked and looked up. The hammer never hit him because Edge was in front of him, blocking the attack with his own scythe of crimson magic. He had it braced with both hands, his heels dug into the concrete to keep him from being shoved backward. He was probably manipulating his gravity with blue magic as well; Black often did the same in similar situations. Skeletons tended to be very lightweight and required a little extra weight to hold them in place from time to time.

Edge recovered from the block quickly and pushed the leader back. They staggered, unprepared for retaliation. Edge sent the mages to the ground, turning their souls blue with a sweep of his hand. The leader fought against him, but none of them had enough determination to actually break Edge’s hold. They started out yelling at them in angry tones, but Edge squeezed his hand and all three strangled to a stop as he cut off their air supply. 

Black strode forward and knelt beside the leader. He flashed them a demonic smile, all pointy teeth and black eye sockets. “There is a reason that your people made an alliance with us, mage,” he practically purred at them, low and dangerous. There was no sign of the bravado with which they attacked before; it was entirely replaced with wide-eyed fear. For a moment, Black saw the faces of the children that lived in his Snowdin, terrified and hungry. He drew back and called to Edge, “I will call the security team. They will want to handle this threat.” He didn’t wait for Edge to respond before teleporting to the other end of the alley and pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. 

Sans answered on the second ring. “Rick’s Barber Shop. We’ll put the beauty in your beast.”

Black sighed, long-suffering and annoyed. “Edge and I have been attacked.”

“What?” 

“Yes, thank you for your concern now. Perhaps you should remember this the next time your jocularity gets the best of you.”

“My jocularity gets the best of a lot of people, Blacky boy.”

“Do not--”

“Where are you?” 

“I will send you a map to our location,” he said magnanimously. 

Without further ado, Black hung up on Sans and walked back over to Edge. He was letting the mages breathe a little but not enough to get off any more attacks. He quirked a very small smile at Black and Black felt his soul warm a little. “If you require assistance holding the mages down, please do let me know,” he offered. He felt himself blush a little; he didn’t mean to say that, not really. He meant to thank Edge for his help.

“I have them,” Edge said simply.

“Yes, well,” Black replied lamely. He decided to try again and was as surprised as anyone when he squawked, “I had it all under control, you know! I would have been fine.”

Edge turned to him and Black forced himself not to cringe. He was the Captain of the Royal Guard. He did not need to be kind or thankful. He did not need to tell Edge that he was impressed with his stealth or fighting technique. He owed nothing to these simpletons in this soft universe nor to the doubles that wore his brother’s face, even if they were interesting fighters that saved him from significant injury.

Edge gave him that small smile again, so faint that Black suspected few others would have seen it. “Of course,” he said crisply. 

Black felt his jaw fall open in surprise. Edge wasn’t angry, didn’t call him cruel or cold or hateful as so many had in the past  _ (like  _ you _ had, just this week). _ He  _ understood. _

“Yes. Well. I am never using the human’s map technology again,” Black said.

“Of course not. It’s an abomination.”

The rest of their conversation was cut short by the arrival of security. Sans grabbed the mages with the help of Mars and a few of the Dogi while Red roughly grabbed his brother and gave him a once over to check for injury. Black could appreciate that Edge stood there and let him rather than fussing like Mutt always did.

Black found himself wondering what it would be like to have something besides enemies, potential enemies, and a brother. Black wondered if, perhaps, this fellow Captain of the Royal Guard in a Fellverse could be his first-ever friend.

Maybe. Or perhaps he was a fool that would only get betrayed later. For now, he was willing to give Edge the benefit of a doubt. It could be interesting to see where this went, as long as they weren't using a GPS to get there.


	15. The Worst Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even mages get food poisoning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has references to vomiting!
> 
> This is set earlier in the series... Like six months into dating Sans? This is before Ellie got Danny Butterman. It doesn't super matter but

Mutt’d be the first to admit that he spent, like, 95% of his life with just no idea what he was doing. He just didn’t get it a lot. He could fake his way through, eh, romantic encounters with some alcohol in his system and he could dust a damn alliumede, but anythin’ else an’ he was lost. Real emotional connection? Nah. Professional talks? Nope. 

Best friend puking? _Definitely_ not.

He sat on the floor outside the bathroom cringing as you… yeah. He tried to text an’ call Sans but he was in meetings, important ones, and so his phone was off. He told Mutt to call Red if there was a problem, but he sorta doubted that this was the kinda problem he meant. He tried to call Jupiter but he had finals and Mars was no help. 

"Is it gonna kill 'er?” he’d asked, blunt as always.

“Wh-what?! No! I dunno!” Mutt stammered back. He hadn’t even _thought_ of that before Mars suggested it.

“Ask ‘er.”

Mutt had, all the while tryin’ not to crush the phone in his terrified grip. You told ‘im no, you’d be fine, jus’ food poisoning, then locked yourself in the bathroom. Mars told Mutt to call back if it seemed like you were gonna die and now Mutt was jus’... sittin’ here. Waitin’.

He heard the toilet flush and the sink run. He scrambled to his feet and walked over to the door. “Ellie? Ya ok?” he asked, trying to keep the rising panic out of his voice.

“‘M fine,” you groaned. “You can… you can go. It’s gross. I’m gross.”

Mutt was tempted for a second; he didn’ know what to do with you like this. He was the worst, the absolute worst, choice for this; literally _anyone_ would be better. But then you made a little groaning noise and he imagined tryin’ to explain to his bro that he jus’ left ya here, their mage, pukin’ like that. He ran away from every scary thing Underground, made Sans deal with all o’ it, but they weren’ Underground anymore an’... An' you were too important for that.

“I’m comin’ in,” he said.

“You don’t wanna do that,” you warned.

“Are ya wearin’ clothes?” 

“What? Yeah?”

“K. Then I’m comin’ in.” He teleported into the bathroom and… regretted it almost immediately. 

Gods, the _smell._ It smelled like a mix of spent magic and… acid? It burned his nasal ridge and made magic gather at the corners of his sockets. It didn’ smell like when monsters get sick and it was _horrible._ Then there was you. You were curled up in a little ball on the weird toilet rug that Sans got ya to keep in your bathroom. He said somethin’ about gettin’ cold feet but Mutt couldn’ really remember. For all he knew, the thing was servin’ its purpose as a floor blanket between pukes right now. 

“Told ya. Gross in here,” you moaned. “I feel like my stomach is trying to rip its way out of my body through my mouth.”

Mutt shuffled his feet a little. Maybe leaving was the right idea…

Then you looked up at him.

Your eyes were puffy and your makeup was all everywhere. Your hair was ruffled, too, and you were all red and splotchy. You sniffled and his soul clenched. He cautiously approached you and you shrank away from him a little. “I’m gross,” you repeated. 

“You’re sick,” he said firmly, surprising himself with his own solid voice. “Are you… uh… a-are you done?”

“Think so,” you said.

Mutt nodded then scooped you into his arms and cradled you close. You felt too hot, like maybe you had a fever? He wasn’ sure. But you must have really felt bad because you didn’ pitch a fit about him carryin’ you around. Instead, you just snuggled against him and sniffled a little. He took you to your room and shuffled the blankets to make a little spot for you. The cats hopped up on the bed immediately and curled up around you. You sighed and buried your face in Zuko’s fur. He started to leave, but you grabbed his sleeve nervously.

“Sorry,” you said quickly. “But… Do you think you could stay? Until I fall asleep?”

Mutt grinned at you. “I’ll stay however long ya want,” he said, settling himself into the bed beside you. He pulled you into his arms and pet your hair a little. Sans used to rub his skull like that when he got sick as a baby bones... prob'ly not the same with hair an' skin, but you seemed to like it. You fell asleep almost immediately, and he settled in to keep watch over you until Sans got there.

He might be the worst choice, but you didn’ seem to mind so much.


	16. Last Friday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans gives into peer pressure.
> 
> This takes place very early in monsters being on the surface; Ellie has known Sans for around 4 months. She is still with Oliver and they still basically hate each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Alcohol use, drunkenness, implied domestic abuse, mentions of drug use, dude being generally confused about a girl while drunk
> 
> I don't really know where this one came from, but here it is. It's kind of weird but I also kind of like it? I don't know guys; it's been a long week and I'm so tired.

Sans is drunk. Not drunk? Drunk-ish.

Sans is absolutely, 100% positively sure that he is definitely not totally drunk. Of course, he's never been drunk, never touched the stuff Underground, too many enemies, but he is not drunk _now_ either. He only had half as much alcohol as Mutt, and Mutt isn't drunk and so Sans isn't drunk either, quid pro quo, vis a vis, whatever.

So there's no reason for Mutt to be so concerned about him teleporting. He has been teleporting since before Mutt ever manifested and he can handle himself. He can teleport in his incredibly not drunk state without any problems. Of course he can. And he will. It's a quick errand, a small thing really, he just doesn't want to wait to deal with it is all. He feels incredible now so he may as well handle it now. 

Sans does not stagger out of the void, thank you, he steps gracefully like a graceful dancing queen full of regal beauty. And if he did stagger, it was because the steps to your door are not even. They look uneven. That's probably a building code violation. Should he call someone? Maybe. He tables the issue for now and knocks on your door. He frowns when he notices loud sounds coming from your house. Why are there loud sounds? He should definitely call someone.

"How many of your 'friends' did you even invite?" he hears you yell, then the door flies open. Your eyes widen when you see him but he doesn't notice because,

"Dress," he says, and it is an important observation. Your dress is short and yellow and looks swishy. It has little flowers all over it. The purple on your upper arm contrasts the color of the dress nicely.

You look down at yourself and then back up at him. "Jellyfish? What do you want?" Your arms are crossed now so he can't see the purple anymore. 

"Dress," he repeats for emphasis. 

"Yeah… Oliver and I were supposed to--"

"Who's at the door, babe?" The tall, curly-haired mage appears beside you and Sans growls a little. The mage's voice sounds weird and his eyes look weird. San's instincts try to scream out from his very much not drunk haze.

Oliver looks back and forth between you and Sans. "The fuck’s he doing here?" he snarls at you. He slurs his words a little.

You tense up. "I don't know! I didn't invite him!"

"Sure. Tonight was supposed to be about us, ya know?" He runs a hand down your arm and you shift away from him. Sans growls again.

"Then why are Nigel and Casey here? And why are you high right now?"

"I'm not high!"

"Right. Sure."

Oliver tries to grab your arm but Sans is faster, even in his not-totally-sober state. He yanks you to him possessively and you are so grateful that you try to dance with him. It's cute. 

"Black, let go!" you yelp.

"I didn't like his face," Sans explains.

You look up at him with a weird look. "Oh shit. Dude, are you drunk?"

"Pffffft. No. Mutt isn't drunk!"

"You're not Mutt, though."

"Babe, just come back inside. I'll tell Case and Nigel to take off and we'll have our little night in," Oliver pleads.

You sigh. "I gotta take him home first."

Oliver scoffs. "Take him home? Sure, why bother? Why don't you just fuck him right here in my house?"

You get all stiff. Sans looks down at you to see why, but all he can see is your hair. He pets it. "Soft."

"Gods, Oliver, you always get like this when you're high! I'm not cheating on you!" 

He laughs. Sans doesn't like it. "Fine! Just stay over there with your skeleton." The door slams in your face and you crumble a little. The sound of a deadbolt locking is loud in the cold night air.

"Oliver? Come on! I'm sorry!" you yell.

"Love hair," Sans tells you.

"Yeah. Okay, big guy, let's get you home."

Sans escorts you to your car and gets in the passenger seat. “I should not drive,” he tells you. You laugh for some reason.

“Okay, come on,” you say. 

He spends the rest of the car ride trying to touch your hair again. It’s just so soft! Why hasn’t he been touching it this whole time? You’re around him all the time and he’s never touched your hair before. You keep swatting away his hand, but that’s fine. 

“Didn’t know hair was so soft,” he tells you after the fifth time you swat his hand away.

“You mentioned that. Just… Listen, boss, can you just chill? Please?”

He frowns. He is chill. He is the chillest of all the skeletons, so chill in fact that he can’t feel his fingers! He doesn’t need your stupid instructions to be chill! He immediately tries to demonstrate by stretching out as much as he can in the passenger seat.

You glance over at him but let it go. The rest of the ride to New New Home is quiet, with you not saying anything and Sans humming that song from that commercial. You pull into his driveway and unbuckle your seatbelt. “Okay, bud. You’re home.”

“Chilling,” he explains, remaining stiffly straightened out.

You huff. “Okay. You are incredibly chill. Now please go inside?”

“You!”

“No, I’m not--”

Sans scrabbles out of the car and ports himself to your door. He flings it open and, before you can get out yourself, he sweeps you off of your feet. You let out a squeal of delight and clutch at his shirt collar.

“Put me down! Dude! What the hell!”

He carries you into the house and dumps you onto the couch. You immediately roll off and try to bolt for the door, but he wants Mutt to feel your hair first. He catches your arm to keep you from leaving and--

He is slammed backwards into the wall. You are standing where he grabbed you, breathing hard, with a shield shot out from your hand. He looks at you in surprise. “What the actual hell, Black? You can’t just grab people!” you yell at him.

He doesn’t totally understand why you’re yelling, so “Why are we yelling?” he yells back.

“Because you scared the shit out of me!”

He thinks that he would be able to see it if there was shit coming out of you in that dress, but he’s a skeleton, so what does he know? “I’m a skeleton. I dunno shit,” he explains.

You look a little less angry now. You sigh and walk over to him. “Come on. You need to go to bed.”

Cheeky! He would never invite a lady that he is not mates with into his bed! He looks you over…. You are pretty, even though you are loud. He remembers being annoyed at you, but he doesn’t know why. How could he ever be annoyed with that hair? 

Well, maybe you would be a suitable mate for the Malevolent Sans!

He leads you to his room and decides to change into pajamas for maximum comfort and mate seduction. He tries to figure out how to undo his belt (surely it isn’t usually this complex?) and you let out a strange noise. He looks at you and you are super red. Why are you so red? Are you usually that red? 

“Please don’t take off your pants!” you say.

“But you wanted to be my mate!”

“What?”

“You’re in my bedroom!”

“To make sure you make it to bed okay!”

He crosses his arms. “Like a mate!”

“Not like a mate.” You gently tug his arm over to the bed and lightly push him down. He falls backward and looks up at you. “I’m going to take your shoes off and you’re going to lay there and be quiet and not touch anything. Got it?”

He isn’t allowed to make any noise so he just nods. You do just like you said you would and pull his shoes off. Then, you pull the blanket back and fuss him into getting underneath, and then finally tuck him in. “Comfy?” you ask.

“It’s a big bed,” he tells you.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t like your mate.”

You pause from fluffing his pillows and look down at him. He doesn’t know what the look you’re giving him means.

“Sometimes I don’t like him either,” you say softly.

“Your arm is purple.”

“Yeah.”

“Why’s it purple?” You don’t answer him, so he hums that other song. His eyelids are heavy. 

“Go to sleep, boss.”

Sans obeys.

***

The next morning, Sans finds a bottle of monster pain pills and a bottle of water on his nightstand. He’s a little perplexed as to where it came from. His skull throbs, though, so he takes advantage of the medication. He staggers down the hall to check on Mutt; his brother was drinking even more than he was. That was only fair; it was Mutt’s birthday after all. That’s the only reason Sans agreed to drink to begin with. Mutt wanted him to. Otherwise, he never would have. He can’t remember the events of the night except that there was a pretty girl, probably at the bar, in a yellow dress. And something about purple? His mind screams that it’s important, but he can’t grab hold of the memory.

He finds his brother asleep in one of the bean bag chairs in his room. He’s still wearing a party hat. Sans sighs and heads downstairs to make breakfast, pausing at the bathroom to splash some water on his face. When he sees his face in the mirror, he freezes. Someone drew a dick on the center of his forehead in Sharpie.

After 20 minutes of washing that off, he finds that the cushions on the couch are just slightly rumpled, like someone slept on them. The blanket on the back of the couch is folded differently than he folds it. Mutt doesn’t fold it at all, so that means…

Someone was in their house last night. Someone was in their house last night _while he was too inebriated to protect Mutt._

Another vague memory of taking someone to bed flashes through his mind and he freezes. Did he…? Could he…? He wanders into the kitchen, hoping that cooking will clear his head and, perhaps, absolve him of his sins. Mutt can't be too angry about his idiocy if he makes waffles. When he enters the kitchen, he freezes. On the counter, there is a pitcher of pancake batter already assembled and ready to cook.

He stares at the scene and wonders what the hell happened last night.


	17. Snow Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is wrong at Sans's house this morning.

Sans woke with a start. Something was very, very wrong, but he couldn’t immediately place it. The bedroom was the same as ever, all of his things in their place and all of your things from the night before strewn about. He knew that you’d have them picked up by the time he returned from work if he didn’t do it himself before he left. There weren’t any screams or smoke. He could clearly see that the room was perfectly intact from the morning light streaming in through the curtains.

Wait. _Morning light?!_

Sans was in front of the window in an instant, ripping the curtains back and staring outside. The whole world was muted by the previous night’s snowfall. A huge snowstorm hit Ebbott the night before, coating the city in a thick blanket of white. They were supposed to receive 7.5 inches and Sans had no doubt that they had. Human meteorology was greatly improved by the addition of monster technology and magic. No, the snow wasn’t the cause of his upset.

He was upset because his morning routine always began before morning light. He should have been in his office well before the sun rose! How could he have overslept? He _never_ overslept! In Swapfell, he drug himself to work after near-fatal injuries and through every illness. He once patroled during a magic flareup so bad that he couldn't even see! How could he oversleep in this Candyverse on the Surface?!

He was getting soft.

He frantically teleported into the closet and threw his pajamas off. He was so flustered that he just threw them on the floor as he yanked on his suit. He was half-dressed when he teleported to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee before teleporting to work. He didn’t have his phone either, he realized partway through the void, and groaned as he staggered out of the teleport. Now, he would have to go back upstairs to get it before he could leave! He adjusted his outfit and grabbed for the coffee pot.

“Sans?”

He froze and looked around. You were sitting on the counter by the stove wearing some sort of onesie that made you look like a dinosaur. You were kicking your feet a little and drinking a cup of your own coffee. You were so cute that he almost wasn’t furious with you.

Almost.

“Why the hell didn’t you wake me up?! I’m late!”

You raised an eyebrow at him and slipped off the counter. You turned on the stove and used a pitcher of pancake batter to begin making breakfast. “You can’t be late.”

“I absolutely can and am!”

“Nope. You can’t be late because it’s a snow day!”

He stared at you and tried to comprehend what the hell you were talking about. “I don’t have time for this… whatever this is!”

“Babe--”

“I must be hours late by now! I cannot believe that you would let me be this late! You must have noticed that my alarm didn’t go off! I have to call Edge! He and Thomas must be concerned, not to mention all of the work I haven’t gotten done! I have meetings--”

“No, listen--”

“I am very angry at you!”

“Sans! Listen to me!”

He finally really looked at you. You were facing him, back to the stove with the confidence of someone that has been making pancakes for centuries, and you had a strange look on your face. Almost like you were trying not to laugh.

“What’s so funny? Is this a joke to you?”

Your face softened and you slipped over to him and slowly hugged him. The back of his mind--the part that was more concerned about you than work--winced at how slowly you moved, like you were trying to make sure he wasn’t going to hit you. You didn’t really think he would, he knew that, but there were always these little moments leftover from your previous datemate that made him wish the king hadn’t expressly forbidden the skeletons from actually injuring him. All of the Fell skeletons (plus Mars and Jupiter) agreed that they’d killed far better people for far worse reasons. There was no excuse for him to still be walking around after what he’d put you through. 

At least he wasn’t in Ebbott. They made damn sure of that. If he ever came back here, even a direct order from the king wouldn’t save him.

“Babe, I’m sorry you’re mad. I’m, uh, beginning to think this may have been a bad idea,” you admitted against his chest.

Your voice sounding so small dumped water on the last coals of his anger. You could be impulsive and had a hell of a prankster streak, but you would never interfere with his work. He knew that. “Tell me the idea,” he said gently.

“Well, you know how we were watching the news last night?”

“Mmhmm.”

“All of the schools in the area were canceling school because of the snow? And I got to thinking about how neither of us ever had a snow day, seeing as neither of us went to a real school.”

“And I can teleport,” he pointed out.

“And you can teleport,” you agreed. “Plus all of you skeletons lived in Snowdin and are, like, snow proof or some shit. Anyway. So I texted Edge and Thomas to see if you had anything important going on today and they both said that your day was really light. Most of the stuff that you would have done you couldn’t because of the snow. So I thought we’d have our first ever snow day together!” As you talked, you got more excited. By the end, you were looking up at him hopefully. He thought his face should look encouraging, but whatever you saw made you duck your head again. “But I get it. I know how you feel about work. Um, just eat some pancakes and then get going?” you suggested sheepishly.

Sans pressed a kiss to your forehead and let you pull away from him so you could flip the pancakes. You would be disappointed if he left, he knew, but you would understand and be okay with it. You would still be here when he got home and you would have a lovely dinner, probably watch some television, teleport to your place to hang out with the children, and then head to bed. It would be a perfectly ordinary evening.

“Be right back,” he told you. You made a noise of acknowledgment and he teleported up to the bedroom. He considered his closet for a moment before selecting a set of flannel pajamas that you bought him last year. The flannel lines were discreetly the numbers of pi. He redressed in those, carefully re-hung his suit for work the next day, and forced himself to teleport back downstairs without picking up the bedroom. It was a snow day, after all.

You didn’t turn around when he ported back into the kitchen. He knew you were trying to get your disappointment under control.

Well, you weren’t the only one in this relationship that could surprise.

He scootched up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, putting his head on your shoulder. You laughed a little. “It’s okay, really. I know how important your work is,” you said. “Besides, I have some things…” You trailed off when you looked down at his arms and saw the plaid instead of a suit coat. “Babe?”

You tried to turn and look at him, but he held you tightly in place. Instead, he kissed your neck and nibbled at your ear a little. “What things do you have?” he purred.

“Um… Are you in your jammies?”

“Of course. No reason to get dressed on a snow day.” He paused. “Unless we want to play in the snow, that is.” Another skeletal kiss to your neck. “I think I would like to go back to bed for a bit after breakfast, though.”

“Wait. You’re really staying?” The delight in your voice made his soul flip a little.

“I really am.”

“You want to go back to bed? Are you tired? You never sleep in.” Your brow furrowed cutely in concern.

He chuckled. “No, I’m not tired at all.”

When you understood his meaning, your face flared red in a blush that ran all the way down your neck. It was so cute that he had to kiss it again. You positively giggled. “I think that is an excellent start to a snow day,” you said. You flipped another pancake and said, in a more serious tone, “I love you a lot.”

“I love you a lot, too.”

He did, and he found himself very excited to see what a snow day with you could be like. Work would wait another day. He wouldn’t miss this for the world.


End file.
